I showed him I was hungry-

rubbed my belly,
pointed to the cane he rode high upon
as I drove behind

I was kidding, teasing,
but he didn't know

In the scramble of an instant
he had climbed his way down
precariously balancing his life against my perceived need

Over rushing,
pot-holed pavement,
the truck swung crazily
mirroring the insanity of his most humane act

The load shifted under him-

teetered

and was momentarily safe again

I felt the fear that he would fall
as he strained to break a piece for me
And when he couldn't,
smiled a grin as sweet as his cane
and extracted a purple stalk whole

I drove closer
I would take this Haitian stranger's kindness
would unite him to myself as brother

He passed the cane through the passenger window
and when I tasted the sugary wood
I knew that there could be no sweeter gift than this.