I miss Africa.

I miss ebony skin

and shocking white teeth

and black cherub faces,

and stark female beauty

and breathtaking men

the color of night.

I miss glistening hands

outstretched in ça va?,

eyes wrapping around me

and pulling me in

with a kiss.

I miss cackling laughter

and clacking palm hulls

and shrill voices chanting

and knees flying high

and hips swaying wide

and arms hurling life to the sky.

I miss ocher and crimson

and chartreuse and bleu,

and tall, regal headgear

and caftans on bikes,

and donkeys, and piggies,

and roosters, and goats,

and taxis throbbing with rhythm.

I miss waiting!

...where time is not fear,

but just life, and more life,

where the earth throbs her heat,

swirling golden dust clouds,

where trees scream their whisper,

stopping me in my tracks,

and the milky night sky makes me live forever.

I miss feeling my heart as wide as my eyes,

and stepping, not knowing,

and searching for words,

and feeling myself on the brink--

of being.

And I miss...

and I miss...

and I miss...

and I long

for

Africa.

Linda Rivero

Paris, 2008

Happy New Year,

Bonne Année,

Próspero Año Nuevo,

Buon Anno!