"The Lake Upon My Back"
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| There is a lake strapped to my back. I feel the ebb and flow of its shores. My
children wait, listless from famine and thirst. Word came to us that foreigners were
carrying lakes of water in huge trucks to the village on the other side of the mountain.
At dawn, I left with hopes of bringing some of this lake back to my children.
I placed a small jug half full of our last water within reach of their hammock.
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| About noon I stumbled and fell into a ravine. It took me much of the afternoon to
climb out and it was dark by the time I heard the roar of the foreigner's trucks. I ran
toward the sound and stood in line watching the stream of water as I got closer and closer
to the truck. |
| I filled my jug with the sweet water and also drank my fill. Someone shoved me away
from the truck and strapped the lake to my back. I started home immediately and I have not
stopped. Now, I walk slowly with the ghosts of my ancestors. In my head I can hear
Ama's moans, but my son Lo is silent. I ache to sit down where I am, but the waves of the
lake on my back sing a chant of endurance. I walk on, but I do not believe I am awake.
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| My hut lies just beyond the next bend in the path. I carry the lake strapped to my
back. Will it be enough? Am I too late? |