Her Garden

By Eve Lyons

She comes to me
so anxious she is
unable to finish her sentences
scared by the official looking letters
she cannot read
from the IRS, Social Security,
lawyers, Mass Health. She is not
stupid. Thanks to NPR
she is better informed
about the world
than most Americans.
She makes less
than seven thousand
a year and works a little
on the side
even though her body
cannot really take the work
she does, and she
is too ashamed
to let her children know
she cannot read
too proud
to seek help. She would rather
muddle along
in her perpetual confusion
and fear
than admit what
many have already figured out.
This world is not friendly
for those
who will never know
this poem.
“A book is like a garden
carried in the pocket,”
or so the Chinese proverb goes
but her pocket
is already full
and her garden is full of weeds
which don’t need watering.

Previously published in Contemporary World Poetry Journal, Spring 2011