First Day
Mrs Warren asks, 'Do you speak English, dear?'
Crouching down,
Resting her hands on her knees
As though summoning a spaniel.
Her voice is loud
And clear,
Her tongue pink
and rolling.
I nod and Mrs Warren smiles,
Then sighs,
Relieved.
'So what's your name, dear?' Mrs Warren asks,
And I'm glad, because I was afraid she had mistaken
Me for someone called Dear,
And that I would have to
Respond to that name
For ever.
'My name is Kasienka,' I say,
embarrassed to use my
crooked English.
Mrs Warren stands up straight
and stretches her back.
She sighs,
Again,
And ridges appear on her brow.
She looks at Mama
then back at me.
'Well ... Cassie, welcome!'
I want to point out her mistake,
Give her a chance to say my
Name properly.
But Mama touches my shoulder.
A clear caution.
'We'll start you in Year Seven
And we'll see how that goes.'
YOU ARE READING
The Weight of Water
PoetryThis is not my story. This is an actual book written by Sarah Crossan. All rights go to her. Armed with a suitcase and an old laundry bag, Kasienka and her mother head for England. Life is lonely for Kasienka. At home, her mother's heart is brea...
