The Sea of Argentina

you wrote me
it was from a far away and mysterious land
in the south of america where you were
i said id fly, then drive
we’d get in a boat and relax on the balmy sea shore
plane tickets and plans formed in my hands
i followed the lines on the map as i soared above the terra forma
sunny places, dark places, spanish speaking places
i melted out of the airplane, the airport, the taxi
speaking a language that i didn’t know i knew
car in hand, driving to meet you
the map whirled in my mind as i followed the road
the yellow of the map and the orange of the road were met
and in my eye i saw the cactus’ and the houses
road snaking down, gas tank winding down
i stopped in Rio de Gallegos for gas
the sun was bright and the dark clouds full of mist loomed in the south
¡lleno, todo el camino a la cima” I said to the boy at the station.
his friends gathered around, soccer balls and jerseys.
I asked them how far it was to Puerto Toro  on the Isla Navarino.
they pointed down the road, smiling and giggling
driving, moving , lines passing. i reached the bridge, the sand where you were.
the beach stood there, like Faria- dull sand and trees with the road above.
the boat was rocking gently, the water was calm, crystal, and completely opaque.
the water, the land- they are a mystery
your hand in mine, i was led into the boat
the bow, you bow. you fade out of the cabin saying something about a meal.
i lay on the bunk in the very front of the boat
there are two small portals by my face
one on each side of my bunk
i see into the water
i see the sand
i see the fish
i see a bat ray
i see the anchor
i see the plants under the water
you tell me to rest, that my journey has been long
you let me look out the portals, to see whats happening under the water
the sea, the salt, balmy skies, and a small amount of peace