les alizes (Martinque)

my letters home
what can they say?
but here I am.
here I am everyday.
at the same bus stop
near the graveyard
in the same company
of school children, workers
and mothers on their way home,
beneath so many crucifixes
my palms
ache.
here I am.
under the power of the same
bus driver, who counts his fares
one by one
dropping them into the box.
here I am.
“last voyage” once again
reads the abandoned freight car.
here I am.
the same hill,
the same walk
and the black dog
who startles me
each day,
the mango tree
that calls to mind
Kali, with her hundred
heavy breasts.
here I am.
here I am in the black sand land -
in the distance far off.
here I am.
here I am.
my letters home,
what can they say but
where, my love
where are you?