My neighbor stopped by this afternoon,

Searching for his kids, who have discovered the power of wheels

And pull of the Red Front store, Trudy's and Francis Creek.

All of the places my kids lost themselves in when they were young.

 

We talked for over an hour,

Knowing they were safe, under the watchful eyes of merchants

Or neighbors, whose kids also know these places.

Our concern quickly turned to the Creamery y trabajando.

 

(Me gusta practicar español, and he is still kind enough to help).

 

He has been here for decades,

Building a life for himself and his young family,

Mastering the culture and the language,

On a difficult journey that I can't even imagine.

 

He tells me that he can not

Take his children back to Mexico, to be with his family,

Because it was no longer a safe place,

And they would die.

 

("Die" was the word he chose, and I believed him).

 

We both expressed hope for the best,

For his family and all of the families in this valley,

Where fire, rain, triple junctions and a host of natural hazards

No longer hold court in the farmers' minds.

 

At some point we remembered the kids,

And he ran down the street, towards town.

I wanted to run after him,

But didn't.