I wonder standing at your door

What do they say to my children?

once the doors are closed

and the bell rings, 

and I leave 

to cook and clean

I come back at noon 

with a hot lunch

and wait patiently 

listening

to words I understand

yet I cannot speak in, 

or scream in 

even when I want to

so I nod 

and smile and they smile back

some of them look like me 

and I wonder 

do they step in 

when my children hurt

do they fight or 

even speak up, or walk away

when people laugh 

at my child's ignorance

or habits

or the smell of curry on his jacket?

I wonder who speaks f

or my child when I am not there

From school back home, 

I remember the sting 

on my hand from the cane

but here, 

they say they don't hit children

so that is good, yeah?

yet I see the light go 

from my child's eyes

every year, far away

and I know 

but cannot ask

does she speak, I wonder, 

the one who looks like me

or the one with the kind eyes

or is se also silenced, 

for different reasons: 

of pay, 

or pain 

or for friendship 

What do they say to my children I wonder

About them 

and about me

what do they say 

about my children, 

I wonder

What do they say about yours?

Do you wonder too, my sister?

Confused mother, sister, aunt, teacher, Master's Candidate, Citizen of the World