Threading my steps along
that stone-strewn way I missed
the breathless luminescence of
cactus flower, hovering among
the spines.
Neither did I glance
up from my path in Time
to glimpse the newly
washed faces in radiant grin.
But weaving
through the litter over
scarred earth I thought
as I bent to the ground,
Why do I see only sadness?
-- Esteli, 1998