Haitian Table

The pulsing sun
In the cloudless sky
Bakes a rugged rutted slash -
Unwilling road
Across the landscape it scars

Gristled cacti hedges
Hide the desolation
And ravaged hillsides
And gutted hovels

Hovels brazenly called homes
By the weathered folk
Who crawl inside at night to sleep
On their cramped section of floor

Every unexpected break
In the mottled hedging
Entry to a man's castle
Made of stick and perhaps...mud

Every break revealing royalty
Holding court amid the
Capriciously churning dust
Dancing upon the edge of the road

A blare of donkeys trumpet our coming
Courtier chickens scurry hurredly
Lest they be noticed and called to task

Nestled in a prickly niche
Of the unending cacti green
An unexpected banquet
Of cantelope and mango
Rests regal upon its wooden diaz -
An unsteady table top
Perched upon splayed uneven legs
Under rich fabric of finely woven dust

As I passed by I wondered why
Why THIS hovel offered wares to passers by
And the realization came that
The answer might be so simple as
By some great and undeserved stroke of fortune
This hovel housed a worn, wobbly table
While neighboring hovels had none