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.