In The Mountans Of Haiti
By By Dennis Siluk
In the Mountains of Haiti
(In the City)
—July is a hot month—sweating
Poverty out on every street
(In Port de Prince); mixing
Memory with desire causes stirring.
Not much rain in Haiti (in 1986);
Summer kept us busy, building
A medical clinic, in the mountains….
(In the Mountains)
—A new life, for the dried-up village.
With only a shower of sun-beams
(Resting) coming over my shoulders
I stopped work to rest—;
The others (young) kept working in the sun,
They all got sick—bed-ridden.
And my teammates became frightened.
—A heap of fragmented images
Where the sun-beams used to beat
(And the dried up foliage gave no shelter)
Gave-way, to the sounds of crickets
And night’s voodoo drums.
Shadows from rocks—extended out
Seemed to shout, shout—talk!...
—I never knew what they were thinking
Somehow, they seem to speak to me now.
Footsteps; fires crackling; voices chanting:
By bushes, tress, and huts—all about;
All nightly noises that never stopped—
No wind under the door—nothing;
You see, know nothing—only hear
(…you are alive).
Note [#777; 7/27/05]: The author spent some time in Port de Prince,
Haiti, at an Orphanage doing some work with the children; helped
put on a puppet show; as well as the author spending some time in
the mountains of Haiti, doing some work on building a medical clinic
with a team from his church for a village that had no medical means;
19-students; he was the elder you could say, or one of the two; back