Your first birthday that I can remember
Taking place outside the U.S.—
When the nation we've known as a homeland
Could not be in more of a mess—
Has prompted a change in trajectory
As modeled by those retirees
Who sailed South for comfort, for meaning,
Or were, rudderless, blown by the breeze.
And should we succeed it would hardly
Be getting away from it all—
In a brick casa hemmed in by cobblestone streets
With cars spewing fumes as they crawl.
Perhaps it restores the ellusive,
Lost to the capitalists' pace,
Deciphering our moment in history,
Humbled members of this human race.
Where Spanish is still the first language;
Where the president's still an adult;
Where flowers thrive under conditions
That cause most things to parch, burn or melt.
Thus does our journey continue
With wonderlust yet unimpeded
Our love deepened by new connections
Our mission as yet uncompleted.
No comments:
Post a Comment