No, She Won't

No, She Won’t

Jilly doesn’t understand why

they don’t want to spend more time with her,

with their daughter.

Maise is a good little girl,

bright and funny and calls after her mother

from the top of the apartment building stairs,

“Bye, mama, bye mama.”

Her mother either doesn’t hear her,

or chooses not to answer.

Either way, Jilly is alone again with Maise. That’s OK.

That’s the way it usually is and Jilly likes it that way.

The two of them take walks to the little gourmet grocery store up the street.

Maise likes to bag the clementines.

Or, if the weather is bad, Jilly puts Maise in the stroller 

and they walk around the big green park, in circles,

but at least the paths are kept clear of snow.

Maise’s mama — ma’am — isn’t there most of the time. 

Her job is important and secret and keeps her away.

The girl’s father, too, has an important, secret job that keeps him far away,

though last year he said he’d changed jobs 

but, really, it’s all the same because he’s still never there.

How can they stand to be away from her for so long? She grows. She laughs. She talks.

What will she thinks of when she thinks of home?

When she is grown will she remember the stroller times and the grocery store and baking?

Will she remember?

When they are done here, and they go on to another city to do their secret work, 

their far-off work,

will she remember the one who kept her, who stayed?