Early Morning

Note: This particular poem refers to a very difficult period in my life. I lost my father when I was ten years old - two days before Christmas on the very day when he was to be released - and we returned to the Caribbean to bury him. I thought about those dogs, the heat, and the general oddity of myself as neither a West Indian nor a Canadian during my time there.

Please forgive the heartbreak...

There were dogs at my heels,

panting; they were like servants

in waiting

At a huge half-finished house

that offered its exposure

to the wide runs of

Stone, rock and land,

down to the sea where

you could buy

Candy; you bury

the family up to the neck

(head first, presumably).

I was an unknowable

self as that ten-

year-old in

The Third World,

in the same sun

of my family,

As they were waiting

for me. I finish this

in that old dawn.

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You can find more poems, stories, and articles by Kendall Defoe on my Vocal profile. I complain, argue, provoke and create...just like everybody else.

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