#2857-Señor Joaquin

He worked the land,

As I sat behind a desk,

And one day we met,

Perhaps by chance,

Yet I believe fate.

As the years passed,

We planted trees,

Shared stories,

And in those fields,

Felt happy and free.

I admire his authenticity,

With a heart of gold,

The farmer poet,

From a different land,

Now my friend,

For life.