Welcome Back

It's been a while.

It's been a while since we have been together.

It's been a while since I have written about you.

Welcome back, you whisper

from beyond the twin peaks of San Vicente,

welcome back.

Welcome back, you call

in a faint warm breeze,

and look up at my bright blue sombrero and

my mountains standing up tall, purple and black

and do you see the little whiffs of cotton cloud in the valley?

and Lago Suchitlán?

and Lago Ilopango?

welcome back. 

Welcome back, you say, 

and walk with with your eyes from way up high

on ribbons of roads

and pause to see tiny villages perched on ridges

and homes crowding the base of El Boquerón

and colorful rancheros by the seaside

and you feel the closeness of your friends,

welcome back.

Welcome back, you tease, 

I wrote it on your calendar

a lazy day at the beach

to jump into the foamy waves

so I can sprinkle you with sparkly sea salt, and

as you get closer can see the waxy green leaves?

can you almost taste the fresh bananas?

welcome back.

I smile.  It's January and

you're still green,

and the cane fields are not yet smoldering,

and you are covered by a blue sombrero

like don Antonio,

like a faithful friend.

It's good to be back.