NICARAGUA
(for Jose Reyes)

they wade through reeds of virgins' hair,
these families,
that veer from the riverbed
like centuries
to watch the glowing stream of roses

had the government not cut our power,
the hallways would not have converged with the streets
in a seamless runway of candles.
had our flashlights not gone out,
this cave would not have become
a constellation of glowworms.
had we not begun to walk,
we would not have discovered that cities are built with feet
rather than hands.
had these vines not hollowed this tree,
splintering bark and sap,
no light would pass through.

racks of machetes fill the supermarket:
Nicaragua, only your children know the secret
to letting the fireflies loose from them.