If I Were a Pair of Windshield Wipers

By Chana Brauser, at age 13

If I were a pair of windshield wipers
I’d see the world with all its smudges
And imperfections
I’d scrub constantly, determined to rid it of its blemishes
So I could see things as they should be
Bin Laden as sweet as a kitten
Hussein, a French Poodle
Bereft of the intense desire to kill
Every child’s donut would be chocolate-covered
Instead of just glazed
And every popped balloon would be whole again
And every missing sock would be found
Returned to its rightful mate

If I were a pair of windshield wipers
The world would have no deficiencies
No poverty, no disease

I am not
And until one does come along
I wait
Seeing the world as half-full
Rather than half-empty
With a grin on my face
And, resting on the bridge of my nose,
Rose-colored glasses