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Elena
My Spain isn’t enough
I remember how I’d smile
Listening to my little ones
Understanding, every world they’d say
Their jokes, their songs, their plots
Let’s ask Mama for some candy. Let’s go
But that was in Mexico
Now my children go to America high schools
They speak English. At night they sit around
The kitchen table, laugh with one another
I stand by the stove and feel dumb, alone
I brought a book to learn English
My husband frowned, drank more beer
My oldest said, “Mama, he doesn’t want you
To be smarter than he is.” I’m forty
Embarrassed at mispronouncing words
Embarrassed at the laughter of my children
The grocer, the mailman. Sometimes I take
My English book and lock myself in the bathroom
Say the thick words softly
For if I stop trying, I will be deaf
When my children need my help
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