"It's the Road, not the Inn
"Delivered boxes of clothing in Aqua PrietaPeople's card board box homes destroyed by the rain
The stock market has crashed, what a shame
The sky darkened, we pushed onSal Si Puedes was the camino's name
Only 100 miles of dirt and rockThunder roared, clouds burst and arroyos filled
The adventure with a pupose rolled onEl Tigre montana range,
rare birds, also a peacock
The engine stalled, the plugs were dried
Halfway the el camino was washed outWe did not stop
Stuck for an hour, under the wheels we moved rock
The storm moved the rain stopped
Shrines, virgin beauty and serenity
A loud noise, the muffler was broke
Barbed wire patched it together, no more drag
We rolled onAfter 70 miles
A raging arroyo we could not cross
We were done going south, and turned back
Children riding bare back, roosters crowing, yearlings bleating
Sleeping dogs, brick casas, tall trees, floral displays
A paradise found, surrounded by the El Tigres
The pueblo Colonia Morelos, suspended in time
Smiling, friendly people, just living, no portfolio, just live stock
Homemade tortillas, papas, carne and frijoles
Get out if you can
Back to Aqua Prieta in the dark
Crossed the border to Douglas at ten
Fourteen hours on the road
By the time I get to Phoenix it will be four more
But first a tecate and then head home
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