I had a farm in Africa

I didn't really, but if I had, I would have liked to have penned something like Karen Blixen did...

If I know a song of Africa, of the giraffe and the African new moon lying on her back, of the plows in the fields and the sweaty faces of the coffee pickers, does Africa know a song of me? Will the air over the plain quiver with a color that I have had on, or the children invent a game in which my name is or the full moon throw a shadow over the gravel of the drive that was like me or will the eagles of the Ngong Hills look out for me?

A few days ago, I downloaded a Phil Collins song from my college days and listened to colors and shadows of a time long past.....and "he was waiting for me there." I wondered - does this song remind him of me?

Do you ever wonder if any eagles from your past look out for you? Did you make a mark that lingers on someone's heart?.....like Australia has for me....or my grandparents....or Mozart's Clarinet Concerto.....

Is there a plain somewhere I once walked that quivers with my color? Just a passing thought.