Threading

			    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