Sorrow

I wept my way through rural Ethiopia
Through Minke, Minare, Koche, Hella, Mugar and Holeta
Even in Addis
Weeping for every tiny foot caked in wet mud
For every open sore assaulting a child's mouth
Weeping for the smell of poverty
That invades air and morsel and sheet
For cough and disease and exposed need
I wept
Wept for myself who struggled to touch infected skin and layer of filth
Wept for fear of stepping in
To love's sorrow