Here
in this place
las mamas are greeted
with silent smiles
and their babies
are welcomed
with slightly wrinkled brows
("not another one").
We worry about
their tee shirts,
and fitted skirts,
their unshaved,
un-nyloned legs,
their change purses
gripped in round, brown hands
-a dollar or two
for tortillas and milk.

But
here in this place
their children
become real to us.
They become
Jairo
and
Lizette.
We say their names
as easily as
Mike
and
Kimberly.
We hug Maricela
as tightly
as Ashley.
We brag about Luis
as much as Nick.

But las mamas--
We worry about
las mamas.

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