By Anthony Dentener

Senegal, Remember Me

For these swells I hear off white mans hill
For the hyena’s laugh that echoes through transparent thatch roofs of Bandias lodge
For the whistles that call Kecoutas children to break fast
These are the sounds in Senegal

For the faces of Senegalese, that smile unconditionally
That illuminate the stars of the universe in consolation
For the faces of family whose resilience continue generations
Like a water well that drenches dry mouths of the Sahara like liquid gold
These are the sights in Senegal

For the American group that walk in liberation
Through the cultural streets of local cuisine
In search for meaning far and wide
With days to go before we depart
These are the lessons in Senegal

Senegal, a place for you and I
That encompasses friends from distant places
A place rich in history
A place rich in potential
These are the way in Senegal

As we venture back to school
We reminisce the people we new
The experiences that made us new
The times well spent with locals and friends
Places traveled by boat and carriage
These are the memories in Senegal

So as you step onto the plane
Remember me, the place you went
For all I wish, is for you to remember
The person you shall be with perspective and respect

The sounds, the sights, the lessons, the way, and memories
These are what we pray for
These are what we thank God for
Senegal, remember us