We don’t see things the same way

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What she said, I do not
remember. Across two

opposing rivers English
Spanish. She packs up

the last tools not looking
up from her task. “I don´t

think that’s right,” I say,
and she punctuates

the end of my sentence,
with a draw banging to.

“What exactly are you
trying to say?” she says,

or rather, those are
words I impose on her.

“You’ll have to talk to
him,” she says. And I say

nothing. The windows
are meshed, and like

the phrases inside the text-
book, in my bag, cross-hatch

the sun out, out, out.

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One thought on “We don’t see things the same way

  1. I like this a lot, the re the perils and pitfalls of communication and miscommunication, with our without the language divide. I frequently wonder why life has to be so complicated, so problematic, so I can certainly identify with what your poem says. Well written.

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