Weary Traveller

Dear T

You are the soft horizon on a fictional landscape

Just out of reach but ever in sight

Where the sun is never quite as harsh as in real life

But a world seen through a child's eyes

Ringing about you is the sound of Carribean nights

The beauty of African daylight

The magic in ordinary life

Witchcraft in the kitchen

Spells in the chicken spice

Imperfect jazz played by seasoned hands on the town square

Ancient tales recorded on skin

It is there you'll find me listening