"For days
we shuffle
on unpaved roads.
We swat at buzzing flies.
Our food and water
is gone by the second day.
"One night we camp in an orchard.
Stars.
My companions.
Listen.
Comfort.
Guide.
They remind me of other evenings
when the sound of Papa's flute,
joined with drumming and song,
invited men to dance arm in arm,
leaping with their strong legs.
"I fall asleep,
hoping Papa will
remember his flute."
