Jumping in the Cangilones de Gualaca

We held hands, counted down

Tres

Dos

Uno

Threw ourselves off a cliff,

plunged into the cool current

and swam through a curving

canyon where slick rocks shadow

the sun. I watch children cling and clamor

up the speckled grey granite walls,

some slip and splash into the water;

Echoes of laughter reverberate

in the canyon as our smiling eyes meet.

My bare feet dangle over the edge

swinging; the sun melts the goose bumps

from my skinny legs. You bite off

the bottle cap and pass me a warm Balboa.

Sips of beer and Spanish flow back

and forth between single travelers.