Some peoples
smile and say hello
in street or on bus.
Other peoples
not like my face
and don’t returning
the smile I sharing.
Mămică feel same as me.
Sometimes I see her
feeling sad
or
I can hear her
anger conversations with Tata:
‘This place isn’t for us, they don’t want our kind here,’ she say.
‘We won’t be here long,’ Tata say.
‘Don’t make promises you can’t keep.’
‘For God’s sake, Miri, we’ll be home by Christmas.’
‘We don’t fit in here.’
‘I know, but I’m making good money.’
‘So when we’ve made enough, we’ll go home?’
‘As soon as we’ve the money to pay for a wife and some left over.’
‘Christmas?’
‘Christmas.’
And I hate hearing these conversation
because many times
I not wanting to return there.
Most times
I not wanting to think about
old life.
Or
new wife.