I am a doctor.
The ground is my floor.
The leaves of the trees are my ceiling.
The good earth is my hospital.
One by one, the campesinos limp to me.
They sit.
They peel off their soaked boots.
They show me their blistered feet.
Their feet are the feet of the good earth.
They are the people of the good earth.
Gabby sits before me.
I wash her feet.
I gently wash away the dirt and pain, until her feet are cool and clean.
I rub salve on her feet.
My hands work to heal her.
She leans forward and kisses the top of my head.
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