Explore where poetry’s words can take you! Poetry provides two views at once: the facts or story and a deeper understanding of ourselves, our world, universal truths.
Antonio of the Rio Dulce, Guatemala
He paddles to us in his mahogany cayuco,
water the color of the burnt sienna land
spilling into its rough hollow core,
created by fire and hands that match the wood—
thick, scarred, umber.
He is Antonio, the caretaker.
His black eyes reflect the river, welcome us.
He points to his wife and many children on the red clay bank.
Mud crabs crawl over banana stalks piled at his feet,
gifts we awkwardly accept
His landlord is absent;
our gain, as ashore he leads us
on a snaking path through land this river has made.
He drifts barefoot over twisted vines and roots.
We are amazed: his stubby rooted feet have wings.
We clump through, trespassers behind him.
In Mayan, he softly speaks the names of trees,
shows us their fruit, whispers their praises
his body blends into the lower trunks, thick, brown, straight;
black hair so dark it hurts the backs of our eyes.
We can’t get our mouths around his Mayan words.
Next his secret cave,
muddy slide down prickly rope, our hands spotted with blood,
grim-looking bats stream about our heads,
gray stalactites bend crooked arms to the thigh-deep water,
he smiles and pride ricochets off damp, slimy walls.
One of us complains out of fear.
He comes by his links to life from centuries-old blood lines
beyond a time we know.
This melting climate breeds
epiphytes, orchids, crocodiles, fer de lances,
and a land that coalesces into a river.
Leaving, we drift past giant snowflake egrets
perched in palms and pines.
Faster, we pass his cayuco as he throws
his dream-like spinning net.
We wave and receive his blessed smile.
In the heavy, humid silence, we hear the river whispering,
Antonio, Antonio, Antonio
by Doann Houghton-Alico, from Voice of a Voyage, published by Sunstone Press, 2014.