Look out for the one who sits at the front of the room
with assignments crisp and complete,
who returns home with star and lunch cauliflower consumed without cheek,
whom teachers, in voices drenched in echoes of distant ambition,
caress for an ability to listen.

Look out for the one who slips through the web of congregants,
only occasionally remembered as a
blur at the ribs of the synagogue,
who reaches in the morning to greet the challenges of god,
whom the rabbis pronounced safe in the circle of the divine.

Mothers, mothers, beware of the immensity of your expectation
and the fragility of your vigilance!