To the Sun

Winter dead

Man want sun

Can't reason

Beg borrow steal

Hijack a wheel


To the sun

"To the sun"

"To the sun mother f****r"

To the sun


Twenty below

Snow and more, go

Rasta e-dread,

Land it you dead


Hour and counting

Over the sea, over the mountain

Can't wait to get south,

Can't wait to get out

Land a road

Bramble road

Welcome, welcome to the sun

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This Poems Story

I'm from the Caribbean island of Montserrat. I come to Canada on a visitor's permit and it was the middle of winter. I missed the sun and was encouraged by relatives and friends to stay. No job, no money, and I desperately wanted to return back so I could be in the sun again. I'm a retired transmission mechanic, widower, and father of a fifteen-year-old daughter.