Summer of 2016

Tue, 01/10/2017 - 11:05 -- Sav2017

Stop

to Edinburgh castle, I’m in tran-sit.

There’s a grass mar-ket

and a little vegan shop.

All summer I discover and revisit for-mer

favorite cor-ners

of Scotland.

 

Sometimes the little pa-use teaches more than a class lecture.

In the crisp, cold air,

I look forward to fresh croissants

and explorations around the city.

Occasionally,

I take a weekend trip to Inverness.

The Highland Cows call to me

and the quiet trees give me the

narrative

space

I need to paint on my canvases with acrylic creativity.

 

 

 

 

Stop

30 minutes, then I’ll be the off-roading.

My odyssey: beginning.

across the dirt roads.

The departure from Olancho reveals many sights.

Outside of the windows, the might

of receivers of past mission work

is revealed with wide grins and concrete gifts.

 

Sometimes mission-work dirt cleans deeper than the water back home.

I cannot say much more than

“gracias” and “ola”

in Spanish,

but every day I know my work

speaks more to them than

my words

ever convey.

I mix concrete.

My body aches.

I construct latrines.

I wake up sore.

I never wake up without a smile.

Every day in Honduras reminds me

of how much the concrete feeds my soul

more than the luxuries of big cities.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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