It patters on the banana fronds
Runs in rivulets down muddy streets
Mossy tufts sprout in the old gypsy’s room
The house crumbling around us.
Years have passed without it ceasing
It will wipe down our memories, and with them
Our history.
It patters on the banana fronds
Runs in rivulets down muddy streets
Mossy tufts sprout in the old gypsy’s room
The house crumbling around us.
Years have passed without it ceasing
It will wipe down our memories, and with them
Our history.