Yatian, Victory, and Honda motorbikes
Zip

            zoom
Rusty, old Chevys rumble past
The sun glows low in the distant horizon of
Lomé, Togo
I sit down in my chair…
put my legs up on the table
And I ponder my experiences upon the dusty rooftop of the Korean Missionary School
I reminisce about  the
laughter
of the English class I taught
where although their faces were
timeworn
seasoned
with the memories of
poverty
and hard work
their eyes
twinkled
like the curiosity of a child
I remember the daily cleaning hours from 7 A.M. to 11:50 P.M. where in the morning I would simply be
a janitor
sweeping the dust off the concrete sidewalks
watering the green papaya trees
as well as the banana trees
I would stand next to the banana trees
and wonder why
bananas needed constant Watering...

The mother goose and her ducklings disrupt
T-R-A-I-N--O-F--T-H-O-U-G-H-T
as they quickly waddled around me
away from the pup
clumsily chasing them as he whirls up dust with his hind legs
And into their safe pen
I can clearly bring to mind
the friendly laughter
of the Togo men laying on their
corroded motorbikes
as they see me
plow
the weed- infested fields
in the scorching sun
at the hottest time of the day
What a sight it was to see a
young
yellow
boy
Seoul, South Korea
plowing the weed- infested fields with an
Africana plow!

…

Memories flowed

first like the
light
pitter-patter of rain
to the
low
constant
hum
of white noise
then finally like a
gluttonous
flash flood
devouring  wood, concrete and dirt

Suddenly
misty-eyed
I could not help but

thank

Him

for Mark’s patience when I make mistakes as a janitor
Abella’s kindness giving me a gift before I left back for Korea
Grace’s forgiveness when I bumble into the class
late
And the faithfulness of my students showing up on time for class

encountered at my stay in the college
Without a word, I stumble back into my room …
And lay down on my twin sized bed
Soon to slowly fall asleep
with a smile...