I saw her today, for the first time,
a broom on her left and her child on her right,
and on her shoulders… a ton of burdens,
she glanced at me as I passed,
but her hands kept that mechanical sweep
brushing away the dust off the road.
The child, her child, a girl,
she was so beautiful,
yet with every brush of the broom, her face turned a lighter brown,
and her mother, her dear mother kept
dragging her wandering feet away from the road side
protecting her like a mother should,
even if all she had were her hands and a mother’s love;
Still she swept.