My bitter sweet memory poem took many years to birth. The memories are all from my years up to age 4. moving has been published for the first time in Frontenac House's Canadian anthology called The Great Black North, featuring contemporary writing by African Canadians. The book was edited by Valerie Mason-John and Kevan Anthony Cameron.
The Great Black North is available through Chapters/Indigo.
moving by Marva Jackson Lord
jamaica
i remember a room full of sun mom dad voices
a veranda looking out onto a street a woman walking towards me with
something in her hands
i remember sitting in a bus in my crinoline dress
another veranda covered in fine fern leaves
part of a compound in Kingston
we share with at least one other person
i remember calling her auntie
i remember someone putting my brother to stand on top of a red ant’s hill
the healing cactus tall in the garden to my young eyes
my brother and sister loud playing happy
coconut tree
ackee tree
my mother was beautiful and she had another child, a new sister
the hot coals of the fire which inspired my nickname “boon boon'
i remember chalk on the doors to keep out duppies
dark nights
somewhere in the middle i remember saying goodbye to my Father’s mother
somewhere in the country
i remember her pale skin i remember i loved her very much
somewhere in the middle i remember my mother's mother with us in the
compound, standing near the chicken coops
she was so dark i remember i loved her very much
somewhere in the middle i remember cold mountain air and a beautiful
horizon
somewhere in the middle i remember the waves rushing in to shore
confusion about the swimming pool by the beach (the explanation
confused me too)
i remember white pink red flamingos and starting school in my blue
school uniform and
being happy and that i had a friend
canada
i remember when i was 4 flying on a plane to my new home
cold dark
plastic toy planes
airplane food lots of it
driving in a car
seeing the “indian” head on the tv screen
late night tiredness arriving in small sleeping town
happy but mom and dad often fighting, arguing, tension in the house
unhappiness
at least in jamaica it was warm
