I Am A Stranger

9th July, 2020


Photo by Ezekixl Akinnewu on Pexels.com

I am a stranger in a Brazilian land.

My toes spread wide on pavements scorched like copper pipe.

My feet sizzle on the outstretched land as it transforms into an artists sketchbook.

A palatte of primary colours, splodged across the skyline with baskets of fruit floating past in the haze.

I am a stranger in a Brazillian land.

My eyes open like shutters on the tilt.

If I stretch my hand I can touch the trinket beads, brigadeiros and exotic vegetables. 

Observing through my lense an alien land. 

So I close my shutters to remain in my head

The sweet apple pie and my cosy bed

I long for the days to return to my home

When I smell mamma’s cooking and all things known.

But now I am here in the strangest of lands

Flung far away so that I must allow my toes to press against the burnt concrete.

I allow my mind to return to my body as I pass the street sellers and marketeers. 

A heady mix of boom boxes, vibrant street art and handmade novelties.

I am alone. My footsteps become louder as I approach the unlit subway. Darkness falls from the sky without much warning and I find myself quickening pace. 

I watch the shadows disappear as I keep my eyes forward. I never look back. 

I remain fixed until I am safely out of the tunnel and can breathe again.

I look up at the sky to see a pearly moon as round as a biscuit.

And I smile because I know they will have seen

My family and friends with all those miles in between 

Will be linked by the star that graces the sky

With a distance unseen by the moon that can fly

I reach out my hand so that my fingers can hold the bright ball in my hand

For I am a stranger in a Brazilian land


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