Poetry
Winter/Spring
2018

My mother is a social worker who works in a hospital

My mother is a social worker who works in a hospital
she makes daily visits          checks her charts
shares small talk with the patients
as she brightens up their rooms

My mother is a social worker who works in a hospital
she is always the first one at the scene
just like the television doctors
whether in the birthing room     at my niece Amanda’s arrival
or at the operating table          medicine’s trap door

My mother is a social worker who works in a hospital
my mother translates for the Spanish patients
especially after surgery     she touches their fear
with words that can heal

My mother is a social worker who works in a hospital
Surprisingly there is little blood
on her pink uniform      just a day’s sweat and dirt
you wouldn’t know
she was a cleaning lady          if you looked in her eyes
My mother is a social worker who works in a hospital