On the Way.
(- what follows is a true story. more a story than a poem. yet, one I have so wanted for so long to tell... -)
On the way
Southbound far into Texas.
It's a long stretch of asphalt,
When the night is late, and so dark
Out on highway 277, moving
From Sonora to Del Rio... and points further south.
Not another soul about,
Just me, my old truck, and the stars.
It's quiet
- and lonely -
Headed down old Mexico way...
Pass a car sitting on the side
- broke down I'm sure -
A coyote with fear and hunger in its eyes
Runs across the road, right in front of me.
Then, a mile or so up, I see him, walking,
Gas can in hand.
I stop, open the door and holler:
' need a lift? '
He simply says: ' gracias ' and climbs aboard.
I pull back out onto the empty road,
Start a conversation,
He smiles, and with very broken English
Does his best to respond.
It takes a spell but I soon understand
He is on his way to Mexico too,
- it is the old homeland for him -
His car ran out of gas,
And most important of all
His wife who is pregnant awaits his return...
in the car!
I offer to go back to get her.
He softly says no... he must get the gas.
The way he speaks, the way he moves,
Lends me to know, this is a gentle, hard-working man
- with a heart as big, and old, as all of Mexico -
More difficult conversation follows,
But, it is so well worth the effort;
I can't say quite why
But I have quickly grown to like and respect this good, simple man
- as if an amigo I've known from old -
He came north to find work,
Provide for his family.
I went south for rest,
And to find meaning.
But, things never work out exactly as planned.
They decided it important to have their nino
- so soon due -
[...] Read more
poem by Smoky Hoss
Added by Poetry Lover
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