ama de casa

silently she comes and goes

every day in plain white clothes

she knows us well, but we do not

she does so much, so much she fought.

her hands were always worn and rough

her shoes were clean, without a scuff

her smile rare, but only then

imagine how it was back when...

she spent a life so far from mine

we see in eyes that seem to shine

I mourn I never understood

how she could do the things she could.

The woman who traveled on the bus

to clean our house and to help us

her man at home, sick and weak

and an old roof, prone to leak

One day she came, smiling wide

and told my mom, and almost cried

her family now had something greater:

they got their first refrigerator.

I never knew how much of me

that woman ever got to see

but I never came to understand,

I heard her story second hand.

we passed each other several times each day

I watched her clean, I watched her pray

and yet I never bridged the gap:

a deadly, sad, close-minded trap.

For three whole years, she worked around me

Our lives intertwined but tiptoed lightly

my biggest regret, with myself to blame...

all I knew about her was her name.