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.