When you are gone,
I will plant a peach tree in the backyard,
And wait for it to flower
I will call out for my cows, and ducks and my dog,
And wait for them to come.
I will read a book on a sunny Tuesday morning,
And let the calm wind touch my cheek
I will wake up early to go for a walk,
And try to run a little while on the way.
I will cook the potatoes, spinach and ginger salad
And sit under a tree to eat them with my fingers
I will wash my hands and my plate in the streams of the
rivulet
And drink a little water from it
I will make plans to play with my friends in the sugarcane
field
And push my friend to the ground from behind
I will throw some dirty soil on his hair
And tell him that someone else did it
I will wear a sparkly fresh scented dress for the carnival
And scream loud to hide my fear on the merry-go-round
I will shoplift a bunny toy from the shop there
And run right back to my house, trembling
I will read a book on how to avoid pimples
And one about the war that broke out in the west
I will learn how to fly a kite,
And write a message on my kite and let it loose
I will sit on the sand of the beach on Friday afternoon,
And feel the sand trickling through my fingers
I will put my toes in the water
And fancy learning to swim
I will snuggle in my blanket and close my eyes
And try to dream of a joy train ride
I will put my pillow in between my arms
And rest my head, tilted, on the bed.
When you are gone.
