I Will Miss–Salamanca

I will miss
the sunsets across the hills I never walked to
the wild shoreline of Spain I never saw

the smiles of young volunteers glowing orange
the hugs and laughter with Laura and Leticia

the conversatione with Bob and DAR and Jokin and Alan and Dana
the midnite meals around candlelight, a glass of white at end of day

the honeystone of The Salamanca Body
the old men and women walking out at night, holding hands against the darkness

the smell of the civil war beneath the polite exchange
the classy brown skinned gals in bright leggings

the blue sky the bright sun the good times
Sandra’s and Yvonne’s reassuring presence
Julie Cajune’s Salish Womanhood alive in her Aunt Florence

I won’t miss
the egos, scent of glamour and the sad end of humanity forecast
in the dying species, every 8 hours one rhino down

but then again
the Fight is On and We Have No Choice But To Persevere
as did our Ancestors as they walked out of Africa

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