Rising Mist Ct.

The red kitchen,
Disney magnets covering the whole fridge with
“Pedro” on them
I remember mami’s spanish novelas blaring
Throughout the house
It was my personal alarm on school days
Gossip on father’s lips
God’s word resting on our shelves,
Made the house look
“Holy”
Dads golden cross of a past religion around his neck,
-Secret crossing of his heart-
Music filling our Hispanic souls
Sound of the vacuum early Saturday mornings
Never ending list of chores
Strong smell of Clorox after cleaning
Powerful sensation of love
Skin to skin contact all around
Papi and mami making it uncomfortable with their silly affection
Tears of laughter because its gross
Those are the days I remember
As I am in a town that lacks
My Culture
The overwhelming image of mother,
Touching the bible before leaving