The Night Before

‘Twas the night before Peace Corps when all through the house,

The computer was still clicking, especially the mouse.

The bags had been packed and set out with care,

In hopes that somehow she’d find room to spare.

The PCV was nestled all snug in her bed,

while nervous excitement danced in her head.

Hoping she remembered a tooth brush and slacks,

she trying to calculate Peruvian tax.

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,

she sprang from her bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the front door she sprinted in haste,

but still with a worry she’d forgotten tooth paste...

The moon shone down on late summer’s lawn,

and as she stood there she uttered a yawn.

When, what to her wondering eyes should appear,

but a man dressed in Chacos and light camping gear.

With a worn wide brimmed hat and a polo of white,

A returned volunteer stood in the moonlight.

More rapid than eagles her service had come,

So of his experiences, he said he’d name some.

“First a plane from my hometown and onto DC,

then Pre-Service training to become a great PCV.

Language and other skills they taught in 10 weeks,

to fill up your brain and then check it for leaks.”

He was kind and patient, a vision of help,

She laughed when he’d spoken and gave a small yelp.

With a wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

soon gave her to know she had nothing to dread.

He sprang from the yard, clicked up both his heels,

And away he flew, off to chase pro-deals.

But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he flew out of sight,

“Dude you’re gonna be fine, it’ll sure be all right.”