Ted Beausire
Leaving Chile
I have loved this country;
and now the ship is waiting
to take me North.
Past the desert nitrate coast
past the last of those dry, clean mountains
past those foetid jungles
to Panama, then
to what I am told to call ‘home’.
Where, in a damp, stuffy room,
I shall tell my children stories,
who will pass some on
to children who will tell their children
of Great Grandfather
who lived in Chile.
And, perhaps, I shall find some coast
with rocks, dry rocks,
and dry, straw-white wine
to visit.
There, briefly,
I shall remember how
I have loved this country, love it still.
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