To Lalaine, Who Dreams of Going Abroad

An immigrant, she is hesitant
about wandering too far.
She is afraid of the newness of things,
of dangers that lurk in subways,
of the sanity of strangers,
of blinking street lights.
When she reaches a stop,
she reels from the strangeness of foreign ground.
She recovers and wanders around
but she gets lost easily
for she knows the way home
but not what home is.
Only the certainty of her emancipation
Leads her to the promisesof a different sun.
Strange lands are carefully hidden
in her jean pockets.
She likes to take them out occasionally
To criticize their individual flaws-
Too hot.
Too cold.
Too smiley.
Too restless.
When she puts them back,
She wakes upand ties her hair.
She heads straight to the marketplace.
Her hands reek of
dried fish.