All of that fate cannot have meant nothing
Riding down the mountains and into the plains
Driving hours beneath the escarpment
The sugarcane nodding complacently
The sun unforgiving in its angry warmth
As it convalesces with the road
And turns dust into water
The road
The sun
The escarpment
The sugar
And just you driving by
With me at your side
We stop at the border to stretch our legs
It is night now and the gates are quiet
Just some soldiers with guns
And a few trucks passing
Even the filling station is dark
We peer past the barbed wire
But we don’t cross
Just stand there with our passports out
Before we turn around and drive back through the night
Leaving our sticky souls
Side by side at the border
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