She works in the city, lives in the slums
on the street she plays the drums
she listens hard to Victor Jara
from Caracas to Kolkata.
See her work in the afternoon
in the evening gaze at the moon
she knows there’s no limit
at her feet our children sit.
She wears a rubber band on her wrist
she likes to give it a twist
she’ll take the fire out of the sun
and raise what we must to begin.