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Totem



There is a breeze off the ocean
The sand foams on the wave
A tranquillity sits like an angel on the evening
I pick up a stick of driftwood
And draw my totem on the soft beach sands

“I am the spirit of the nation
I am the spirit of the family
I belong to these long ocean evenings
My soul tunes to the sand, my arm reaches to the breeze”

Another time and another place
We walked together along English country roads
Picking fruit, relishing in the Empire
Gone are the memories with the English and the Empire together
Alone with the ocean, deep in the tropics,
With she who rules the ocean dead to a watery grave
And the spirit of Britannia but a song

I my totem, I the ocean and I the breeze
I rest from drawing and swim the gentle waves
Running fingers through the surf
With no other thoughts, alone at last
Alone to strike a new path through
The wilderness of the tropics
The wilderness of my native

I miss being English,
But that only for my gal
I am of a stronger leaning now
Tattooed and tanned
Pierced and dreaded
Home beneath this fairer sun
Home in my palm tree and by
My guided women of the moment.
She is a good sun and a strong palm tree
Life is forgotten here by the southern waves
But the totem only grows stronger in the ocean heart

I massage the driftwood between worn fingers
“I am the spirit of the nation
I am the spirit of the family
I belong to these long ocean evenings
My soul tunes to the sand, my arm reaches to the breeze”
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Submitted by jnwakeling on April 07, 2021

1:25 min read
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Jonathan N. Wakeling

Artist, Psychologist, and Writer in Harare, Zimbabwe more…

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    "Totem" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 24 Oct. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/97234/totem>.

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