In a Neighborhood in Los Angeles
I learned
Spanish
from my grandma
mijito
don’t cry
she’d tell me
on the mornings
my parents
would leave
to work
at the fish
canneries
my grandma
would chat
with chairs
sing them
old
songs
dance
waltzes with them
in the kitchen
when she’d say
niño barrigón
she’d laugh
with my grandma
I learned
to count clouds
to point out
in flowerpots
mint leaves
my grandma
wore moons
on her dress
Mexico’s mountains
deserts
ocean
in her eyes
I’d see them
in her braids
I’d touch them
in her voice
smell them
One day
I was told:
she went far away
but still
I feel her
with me
whispering
in my ear
mijito
by Francisco Arlarcón
from After Aztlan
David R. Godine, publisher, 1992