Mis bendiciones

My mother’s
“accidental birth”
in a mexican
colonia, cold
and hungry

My grandmother
taught corazones to cook
in English
praise in Spanish

I dream of the
train my mother
took across
la frontera

I stare at a mural
of a revolution I have
learned about in books,
brown solidarity

I dream of an old man
smoking, caring for
horses, far
from home

I’m in the fifth grade
la güera
playing futbol
burning in the sun

I know all these people
alive, almas
familia
name without relation
not knowing the language

all of us kneeling,
praying, hands folded,
on the longest afternoon
with no music

memories of
a lost voice
maize
taking the bus
their quiet rhythms
in my ear

being lulled to sleep,
beads twirled between
pulgar e índice
the smooth
recitation of
a million novenas

the joy of the arrival
of robert steven,
brown and delicate
with beautiful breath

i listen to
the beatles
mozart
celia cruz
when cleaning
la casa

i watch
fraggle rock
the world series
las noticias

i read
el paso times
look at the pictures
el diario
‘comics’

gracias a Dios!
i say my morning prayers
grateful for
another day