Lamb’s Ears
The women in blousy dimijes,
scarves hiding long hair,
don’t speak English.
I, with short hair, wearing jeans,
don’t speak Bosnian.
Nearby grows a fuzzy, grey-green plant.
As I stroke its softness,
I bleat, “Baa-a-a.”
With my hand, waggle an ear.
They look at each other for a moment,
then laugh. No dictionary needed.
Published 2005, Home Forum.
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