to pick up leaves, 

offer summer school, 

and keep our library open. 

Every day now 

more men stand 

at the railroad station, 

waiting to be chosen for work. 

Because it’s thought 

the Hispanics will work for less 

they get picked first, 

while the whites and blacks 

avoid the terror 

in one another’s eyes.

Our handyman, Santos, 

who expects only

what his hands earn, 

is proud of his half acre in Guatemala, 

where he plans to retire. 

His desire to proceed with dignity 

is admirable, but he knows

that now no one retires, 

everyone works harder. 

My father imagined a life 

more satisfying than the one 

he managed to lead. 

He didn’t see himself as uneducated, 

thwarted, or bitter,

but soon-to-be rich. 

Being rich was his right, he believed. 

Happiness, I used to think, 

was a necessary illusion. 

Now I think it’s just 

precious moments of relief, 

like dreams of Guatemala.

Sometimes, at night,

in winter, surrounded by 

the significant silence

of empty mansions, 

which once were cottages, 

where people lived their lives, 

and now are owned by banks

and the absent rich, 

I like to stand at my window, 

looking for a tv’s futile flickering, 

always surprised to see 

instead

the quaint, porous face

of my reflection,

immersed 

in its one abundance.

This poem relates to Walters character traits. This is possible because It states that "Because it’s thought the Hispanics will work for less they get picked first, while the whites and blacks avoid the terror". This means that the people who has been picking the Hispanic have thought that their specific race was best suited for the job they are taking them for. This shows greed because the people who are choosing the Hispanics want nothing but free labor to do what the command.