a poem i like

"Elena" by Pat Mora
My Spanish isn't enough.I remember how I'd smile listening to my little ones,understanding every word they'd say,their jokes, their songs, their plots. Vamos a pedirle dulces a mama. Vamos.But that was in Mexico.Now my children go to American high schools.They speak English. At night they sit aroundthe kitchen table, laugh with one another.I stand by the stove and feel dumb, alone.I bought a book to learn English.My husband frowned, drank more beer.My oldest said, "Mama, he doesn't want youto be smarter than he is." I'm forty,embarassed at mispronouncing words,embarassed at the laughter of my children,the grocer, the mailman. Sometimes I takemy English book and lock myself in the bathroom,say the thick words softly,for if I stop trying, I will be deafwhen my children need my help.