• ‘Gloria a Díos!’ souls proclaim
  • Where an earthly pothole of tangled hands
  • Pull labors ripe of birth and flavor.
  • Adoration emanates from pains –
  • Yet while harvesting broken-backed beans,
  • A breeze lifts and drifts for their savor.
  • Dear Lago de Coatepeque,
  • Grand disc of azul; garnished catchment;
  • Sleeping caldron of the divine Savior:
  • Why offer bounty and vista,
  • When from crop to barista,
  • One covey shall never greet the other?

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