Red Dirt Road to Chuka Meru

Bare, unknown

Faces peeking out

On the dusty red road

Holding hands

Sleeking by

Making room for a stranger...me

“4 hours by foot

Or take any truck”

No truck passed

I kept footing

At the sun’s pulse

Holding my breath

Before dark

Passed another man with a lance

Green highlands

Turned to dry meadows

Chuka Meru, Where are you?

I nearly passed you

With greetings from the chief’s house

“This is Chuka Meru”

And the red road fades

In the pitch black

Sounds of the bush

Drums on the hillside echo

The stars echo back

HHHMMMMMMM

“Just a Pentecostal meeting”

Hot basin to wash

My shoes stained red

Like her threshold

Alone with candles

Drums reside

Red dirt road waiting

For my return

Maybe a truck

But now

To meet Jacinta: a friend of a friend in Chuka, Meru.