Realities of Island Life - Farah Didi

narrow

wind kissed roads,

unpaved with

coral stones,

must be

swept twice daily,

drifting in

with the salty air,

smells of smoked tuna,

drying out in white heat,

crows circling above

ready to steal,

salty water

every where,

the old mosque well

is nearly dry,

tired limbs carry pots

all day long,

creaking sounds

of a bunch of coconuts,

overhead,

browned and seasoned,

just resisting gravity

will they fall on my head?

---

Farah Didi (nee Faizal) (20th century) Maldives

Source: Scottish Poetry Library