Today we journey to Orange Bay
to meet
with our good friends.

We spend time with many people
and Ezzy invites us to stay over.

He makes up the bed with clean sheets,
leaves drinking water in a container
and lights a coil.

Dogs bark.

Mosquitoes bite.

Sleep drifts in and out.

In the morning the sun
is hot on my skin.

I think of the day awaiting Ezzy,
his daily struggle of existence living
in a borrowed house.

He mentions for a second time
about having some land that we
could build a house on
that he would take care of.

With the hill being displaced to
another location, this would certainly solve
the problem of where Ezzy will live.

He is 42 or "four and two" as he would say.

We say our good-byes & I realise
that for the first time
since coming to Jamaica
this farewell is unique
in that we have
no plans of returning.

Sadness prevails.

The ride into Negril is sweet.
The sky is deep blue with no clouds.

The air hot with cool spots
as we ride under shade.

That feeling of newness,
before becoming accustomed
to things here touches me slightly.

Here are the good people we meet.
The ones that accept our
comings and goings
without resentment, that continue
on with their lives --

"you born, you live, you die."

Ezzard
Canout
Marcus
Trudy
Linnette
Diane, Sye
Delroy
Linda & family
Lance
Sandy

As well as all the people of the hill
who's names we don't know
but who's faces we greet
and who have come to know us.

 



 This piece was adapted from an  original Internet offering by Peter Horath and Sharon Matarazzo