When Mr. Sulaiman from Jordan play he pipe and the band join in – two musicians from Liverpool, a’ Egyptian beatin’ drums with he hands, a German drummer, and a German guitarist – I thought about children in a’ open-land, running wild and free.
Me an’ Bhoy, assistant to Fazal (gardener-tree-trimmer-grass-cutter), examine the ground. Every crack was a thirsty mouth.
“Look, eh, you would never think so much rain did fall…” Bhoy say in he slow-w-w-w way.
“Yeah, four an’ a half months o’ rain and now look!”
Fazal say he does have to finish work soon before the sun blister he.
Every day, the heat rise, if you coulda hear it, you woulda hear a scream in the sky, I swear.
I don’t know if it was the heat or me, but I been feeling like a desert too. All me words been panting like them flowers, h-h-h-h.
Read the full post on Guyana Gyal’s Blog