The Drive ©

the long drive into the country

to begin a mountain climb, the

winding past the warning not

to turn left where death lurked 

in the valley, waving to ladies

selling coconut juice on sides

of the bumpy road, children 

at play in front of ramshackle

shacks,  multicolored blooms

on the hillsides reminding me

despite the civil war what is

beautiful waits with me at the

foot of these mountains for the

second coming. for hours my

heart was beating faster than 

words in me rose, the pickup 

truck pulled me up the ascent,

the radio singing sweet tunes

from many places as if the air

was not blistered with a civil 

war, and then I came out of 

the dark night into a little 

near ruined village where a

crust of bread was placed in

my hand by an elderly lady

and I saw you standing in 

the town square in front of

the church.  

h. j. Recinos