A YOUNG GIRL’S HOPE
Doctors have repaired my broken from birth face,
Joined bones across the great divide that was my mouth.
I am bleeding, cut and pasted to a final edit;
Someone has promised me a mirror.
I am a passenger in the Nissan Patrol.
In the back row, my mother’s arms around me,
I sleep away the pain that is my face,
Dream of sisters and brothers similarly broken.
Back home they will stare and ask questions
About the journey, the hospital, the surgeon’s knife.
I might not want to tell them. I might not like
Their attention, stealing memories from my cut and paste lips.
I never knew Hope before; she did not visit our huts.
Now I look at my shoes, stroke my knees beneath this cotton dress
And hope that I will be allowed to keep them. Hope
That my face will stop hurting, that I will smile like my teacher.
Copyright Madresicilia2008
http://www.smiletrain.org/site/PageServer
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