SONNET FOR CLAUDE McKAYAuthor(s): BOB STEWARTSource: Caribbean Quarterly, Vol. 38, No. 1, CLAUDE McKAY (MARCH 1992), p. 31Published by: University of the West Indies and Caribbean QuarterlyStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/40653803 .

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31

SONNET FOR CLAUDE McKAY

When young from flame soil, searching north to find A continent to reap of endless fruit, You heard your song words flourish in a wind Of paper praise, you also wept, a severed root. In tensing hope you showed your shoe-black face And saw the clouds of promise bend down low. The rain was white; but still you sought a place Where island flesh and heat could easy flow. Morocco, nigger Harlem, black Marseilles - You found a deep, a dark return of blood That bled your pen, set hands to strum and play A song of dancing banjo brotherhood - So far from home, so very long away, In a jazz beat, back street African cafe.

BO B STEWART from Cane Cut (Kingston: Savacou, 1988)

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