My Santiago

Passport to Baracoa

(9th December 2017)

We wake this morning,

Alert at 5,

And by 6 we are climbing

cautiously,

the vertical, metal, spiral

of a staircase,

to the dilapidated rooftop;

Views of Havana’s

crumbling facade rising

like weathered ghosts,

Leering over us.

Perched on metal chairs,

Sipping thermos coffee,

Followed by Guava and cheese rolls,

We watch the grey day

take shape.

Breakfast done,

We descend the stairs

watching for that juncture

in the steps,

where foreheads hit walls -

And reach our temporal Casa,

On Chacon Street, 103;

Where we gather in our group,

to walk the broken street to our transport.