Little Pieces of Little Papers
When I'm cleaning
I find her hope;
little pieces of little papers
tucked away
in little places.
silent, secret wishes
of what needs repaired - that no one
can fix or fully understand
her urgency - for
they see no flaws.
And I cry, a cry
for her, because
she won't - So, I dust
around her notes
respecting her reminders
of miracle ears;
little pictures of little things
promising to hide
that which she displays everyday
alone in this
in-between world
that the deaf can't hear
and the hearing can -
what she can't
change, without her little pieces
of little papers
that she tucks away
in little places.
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