Poetry Monday
Journey
by Milton Jordan
Read these words aloud with proper pauses
for breath, now and then a slow swallow
and reaching stanza breaks imagine
you’ve arrived at a river running high –
not that river – still an obstacle
on your dangerous, hopeful escape route.
Slow your pace to follow the imagined guide
who knows the upstream crossing that tomorrow
may be down enough for wading through
to eight more hours along a trail removed
from more obvious well-traveled tracks.
If you can, now, let your voice mimic
the heat and dust of summer Salvadoran
side roads, the realization of 50 miles
\again tomorrow and 20 tomorrows
without surrender to despair and silence.
In reading your final stanza settle
into routines of a large canvas city
with background voices in other dialects
and that river running much lower
than many you’ve read your way across
but much more difficult to get beyond.

Poetry that makes you feel the dust and heat of the Journey. I really appreciate you posting this.