We had talked of heading north to take on
Victoria Nile, even challenge marshes
near Lake Kyoga. Told we’re mistaken
to try, we stayed here; settled for less harsh
challenges: strode Botanical Gardens’
rain-forest zone, backdrop for those ’40s
Tarzan films with Weissmuller’s aerodance
of swinging vines. Done with our day’s sorties,
we settle on lakeshore far from town lights,
our arms entwined like vines, our eyes entranced
by water’s seeming endless ebb, the night’s
forest of stars. I pay heed to your glance
toward a child’s distant laughter. You whisper
concern for orphans, your voice blessed vespers.
Roger Armbrust
August 24, 2011
