ISLAND SOUNDS

A solitary guitar
consoling yesterday,
a coq greeting the dawn,
rain tiptoeing on a tin roof
While the sun looks on,
a cyclone whistling through the palms,
breadfruit falling from a cloud,
laughter spiraling toward the full moon,
feet tapping,
hands clapping,
vibrating the night,
stirring memories of Guinea
like the silver bracelets
'round our limbs.
We translated
until we discovered
our heartbeats were the same.