Thor's Day in the batey (for Francisco)

i watched you work
in dark skin
under a warmer sun

they may never hear
your voice brother
in those frosty veins

so many days passed
in short breaths
back facing south winds

but i swear,

i saw your heart
in your eyes
under hurried good byes

los robles (the oaks) casting shadows
on the hillside
as a watch man

you waved to me
with calloused hands
i cannot forget it

the cane burning fast
like the moment
when we heard Him

speaking with us.


(This poem has incredible personal significance and meaning to me.  I spent the last 8 days with friends in the southwest region of the Dominican Republic. If you have never been to or heard of a batey (Creole for 'village') you may not quite understand it. I encourage you to make an attempt to know. The only way to live is to grow.)