I remember those Anancy Days
when the cunning spider and his wily ways
filled our bedtime reading
“One more story, Mother please,”
would be our final pleading

Using brains to get his way was Anancy’s big fun
A trickster of the first degree he was surely one
but he would never think to use rockstone, knife or gun

Some say those days were backward,
primitive for sure
But we did not live behind iron bars
and rarely locked our doors

Now our kids read Mother Goose & Dr. Seuss
and watch Barney on the tube
And our native Anancy is nowhere to be seen
as foreign images constantly flicker across the TV screen

Let’s not banish Anancy to the ceiling
and leave him there to weep
Bring him back to the table, give ourselves a treat
Let’s watch Anancy dance on a homegrown Sesame Street