Poem 120 – Memories of Salone*

I carry memories of this land,
It’s fingerprints impress upon me,
And looking back it springs to life,
With speed and vivid recollection.
Oppressive dense humidity,
Immediately dampens both my palms.
Salone’s sweet earthy scent invades,
My nostrils, dust my garment lines.
A grimy vulture perched nearby,
Awaits upon a skip hopefully.
It makes me nervous, is it me
It waits for? Shooing it away,
I hear across the rusty roofs,
The sounds of hustling street vendors,
And traffic, loud with horns forming,
Customary queues down Kissy Road.
Elsewhere a coastal paradise,
Untarnished white and vacant sands,
Where fishermen haul in their catch,
Dragging bright painted boats to land.
Enthusiastic introductions,
Their welcome offered up in song,
Loud ululations, fast drum beats,
With laughter loud and handshakes long.
Despite Ebola’s touch and times
Of bitter strife, this is a land
Where riches can be found but not
In stones, the people are its diamonds.

Sierra Leone is a special country for me. Despite its many struggles and traumas, it is also a country full of life. The latest Marillion album caught me by surprise with a track about it, bringing back all sorts of memories (listen below).

© Ben Quant 2022

*The affectionate abbreviation often used for Sierra Leone

2 thoughts on “Poem 120 – Memories of Salone*

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