Now that I am here And you are there Every morning finds me with a newspaper. Glance at the date Focus on the headline And the eyes crawl over The news. Sometimes a suppressed fear When the place mentioned Is where you are. There's been another ambush, they say The number of wounded is not definite The surprised minions Didn't make it to the hospital. The newspaper is folded But the anxiety remains Was your retreat safe? I think, The comrades know best The wilderness. I leaf through the pages again You stay on my mind And I realize So many events are not reported in the papers The victories of the masses and guerrillas in the countryside.   (J.B.)