Joburg to Harare

Heading north
from Jo'burg Town
Isuzu truck
Zimbabwe bound,
All my papers
correct, in order
to get across
the Beitbridge Border,

Been up this road
twice before
stop for snacks
a road-side store,
Where I see her
standing there
out of place
with short blonde hair,

I top off
my road machine
she walks my way
a movie scene,
Wearing khaki
pants and shirt
all my senses
on alert,

She, of course
asks: where you goin’
which way are
the winds blowin’,
Could say Cairo
Nordkappe Norway
sure-fire epic
Road Trip Story,

I say Harare
my destination
work, not pleasure
not vacation,
An adventure
none-the-less
her response
hard to guess,

So, she climbs in
and off we go
I check her passport
just to know,
Avoid surprises
at the border
her UK papers
all in order,

We trade stories
truth and dare
she runs her fingers
through her hair,
She says it once
reached down her spine
but that was
a different time,

In the cold
English rain
waiting for
the airport train,
To catch the British
red-eye flight
Limpopo River
we’ll spend the night,

Guest House has
a room for two
we trade glances
it will do,
To cross the border
at first light
if we make it
through the night,

Drink Castle Beer
the outside bar
I ask if
she’s traveling far,
She tells me that
she doesn’t know
no real place
she has to go,

In the movie
in real-life
cut our steaks
a sharp knife,
Eat them down
bite by bite
wonder about
the coming night,

The border guard
waves us through
some tourist couple
me and you,
Don’t we make
the perfect pair
safari khaki
trim short hair,

I get a post card
some years later
she asks if I
love or hate her,
It was fun
way back then
perhaps we should
do it, again,