My Santiago

At Yumi’s in Saroa

A short ride from Fidel’s biosphere,

We pull up on the outskirts of Saroa.

At Yumi’s!

We are now high in the mountains,

Far from the cacophony of Habana,

Surrounded by hills,

In a valley.

Yumi’s is the first house in the community that is Saroa,

And we are struck by the stillness,

the cry of the Cuban Mockingbird,

And the lazy circling of Vultures,

Riding the airstream,

Constant lookout for prey.

We feel at home,

And I wander the immaculate yard,

With rows of organic crops,

The gnarled wooden railings

Covered by cement,

And a pig,

Split open on the barbecue.

I visit Cookie,

Chained on a long leash,

And with a rusted old barrel for his home,

He gambols

in wide - eyed, joyous circles,