Brazilian Day in Toronto

Airasana Busato

 

 

 

When you get the subway,
you hide your yellow and green heart
under a worn-out t.shirt:
you don't want people to hear
the strange noise it makes when
you miss home. It is hard to know
you will listen to all those songs that
make you lick your Mother Tongue.

And when you arrive there, you kneel down
and kiss Yonge-Dundas Square.
For a couple of hours,
you think you are contemplating The Sugar Loaf
or sunbathing in Ipanema beach.
So you dance and cry whenever you
see you are not the only one,
thinking about who you were
and what you are now.
You forgive yourself for your choices
and finally understand your homesickness
as you eat some typical Brazilian food
(which is very different from your mother's seasoning),
drinking coconut water.

And when it is over,
It is not over.
Your body trembles
with the old cliche and
you get more aware
that home is where your heart is.

So you weep alone again,
and then call your family
just to tell mum you are well
but you can't come back home yet.
Not yet.

Karla Bardanza

 

 

 

 

 

 

Copyright©Karla Bardanza 2012