On the Road from Suchitoto

by Alice Feeley, RDC

Through river shallows

where the only bridge is closed, 

over kilometers of washboard dirt road

our worn out bus climbs over stones

to mountain’s edge.

Across the empty landscape a long lake

looks cool blue in the midst of rising heat.

Here and there stand leafless trees,

the color of bone picked clean.

Behind wire fencing one bare tree

still holds a nest, vacated, empty.

A few feathers hang among the twigs,

remains of life that used to breathe

and sing right here.

Refugees all,

even the birds.