Silence ©

Kingston 1984

The open market

Tinned roofs

Tables filled with baskets and straw hats

Rings, bracelets, and necklaces

Paintings, wood sculptures, and braided ropes

Voices all around calling

Lady! Mon! We got what you want.

Step in here, cool off by the fan

We whisper to each other

Let’s look at all the booths

When we go around again we can you know

We will pick out what we want

We ignore the calls and move on nodding

Booth three, booth six, booth ten

Behind us there are suddenly horns and drums

Turning we see the boys, eight, nine, ten years old

Wearing their scouting uniforms and kerchiefs

Blaring a brassy tune

We smile and move on

Still nodding

Booth fifteen

Voices calling to us 

We nod

Lady from booth one calls out

Don’t bother with them

They don’t speak English

We leave and then laugh

Love Jamaica

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