unspoken

hands crossed and laid upon knees
head must be bowed down demurely
she’s obedience and loyalty
sitting unmoving at the side
of the gold paved roads to welcome
her prospective employers
their prospective customers

she’s not too pretty so won’t be
one of those husband stealers
she cant speak much good English
just enough to understand and say
yes ma’am, no ma’am, she cooks, cleans
she looks after children, perfect
for the family, at the price
of $1 - she’s a bargain

(it’s a bargain too, for her
food, a bed, a far cry
from working out in the fields
where there is plenty of
poverty, misery, suffering
laughter, joy, family
it’s a good trade-off)

assimilation into the
family is easy, assuming
the fading traditional wife
slipping in-out unobtrusively
meals appear-consumed-appear
on sparkling clean cutlery
laundry dirtied-washed-dirtied
she responds instantaneously

wakes early, earlier still on Sundays
so she can snatch those allotted hours
and squeeze (tightly) what life out of them,
fill up the monotonous burden
the days are counted, and what arrives
clutched in work-roughed hands is not paper,
but food, lodgings and maybe education

reprimands borne with humility (quietly)
no talking back or threats of
being sent back might be fulfilled
she reminds herself with pictures, letters
(she’s a self-sacrificial saint there)
carrying out her task with resigned finality
she’s maria full of grace

written 09/05