Category Archives: Travel

Shifts

I am far away now

from everything familiar

It’s after sundown, dark

The air smells of smoke

heavy from bamboo smouldering

Crickets are singing, or katydids

And something else

A woman’s voice rising out of the darkness

Over there near the fields

we rode bicycles past today

She sings

or keens

The melody is in a minor key but

I don’t understand the language

Perhaps it’s a lullaby

I am lying here in this hammock

a young attendant just brought by and hung for me

It’s in that army camouflage pattern

In the courtyard, I saw samples of bombs

grenades and land mines recovered from the landscape here

I am looking at my familiar from a distance

From another angle

This location in the world

I am reading Margaret Atwood’s The Handmaid’s Tale

I read it before, a long time ago

It seemed like brilliant fantasy work then

Science Fiction, a Fantastic Tale

It doesn’t seem like fantasy now, this time

I’ve felt the breath of Possibility.

Have I changed so?

Or has the World changed?

Maybe I have been sleeping

Maybe I’m just waking up.

Friend

It’s my birthday

I’m not a heart-shape

I was only born on Valentine’s

there are still things

I heart can recommend

like when your bag’s full

you’re on a lonesome road

on a hillside looking out

over places you’ve already been

or winding pathways up ahead

it feels both great and good

to stop along the way

share the beauty and a bit of bread

with a hungry stranger friend.

image

Portugal

https://soundcloud.com/fhaedra/portugal

 

I feel your age and walk

softly across your cobblestone

I climb your steep hills

to arrive at secret doorways

I wear a skeleton key to enter

ascend narrow stairwells

I gaze out toward your open seas

from your stone towers

I am awakened by the bells

of your ancient hallowed cathedrals

I listen to the clackety clak of your railways

passing through fields and orange groves

I see the clothes of your citizens

drying in the calm breeze

I read the graffiti 

on every abandoned wall and building

I intake the freesia in your fragrant air

I sip the wine you leave for me

next to baskets of ripe fruit

I lean in to you to catch

some small fragment in your language

I am breathless

refreshed, enraptured 

I absorb your grace

I am totally here

Minha bonita

Portugal.