Alone on the beach the boy stares
Out at the clear blue island water
Contemplating his future.
The blazing yellow sun
Darkens his bare skin,
The rays burning into his memories.
Memories of a small island village
While living in the Big Apple,
Grasping his dreams firmly
With his hardened, callused hands
But St. Kitts will always be his home.
Memories he would eventually pass down to his son
When they return to that blazing yellow sun.