Remembering Fogo

dear fogo Island


My mind remembers
the slight concussion
the burning behind my eyes
my back, slides along the wall
as I step sideways down
an unfamiliar narrow staircase
did I wake in a dollhouse
is this a dream

Feeling my eyes budge from their pockets
as I strain to see
an image of soft greys and misty whites
merge from across the room
my feet move my body
no consultation with my mind
I feel, no, I am possessed, hypnotized
entranced by what I saw
no words I find or create
can put you the reader 
in my mind on my footprints
that first morning on Fogo Is.


Did I die
had I fallen into a coma
I could not remember a disaster
yet here I was, in heaven

With pyjamas still on 
I pulled a big white sweater over my head
drew my rubbers on my feet
I stepped out the door…

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