Back Home

I first wrote this about two days ago & has my 12 year daughter, Isabella, read it.  She didn’t feel it was ready “because it doesn’t mesh well.”  And told me to keep at it.  I did but couldn’t seem to fix it because with each revision she would send me back to work at it again.  I finally asked for her help & she worked her magic helping to the final version published on the blog.  Thanks Isabella for your help!

“Back Home” by Robin & Isabella Estevez

I close my eyes, and
Am transported back to the dirt road
Wet moist morning dew
& I hear the roosters sing
Cock-a-doodle-doo

We brushed our teeth out of an empty can of coffee
Freshening up by the side of a palm tree
While a fresh pot sat over an open flame
Grandma fed her fogon while she prayed in his name

We carried water on mules from the river
Eating mangoes in the shade
This was our remedy, our life giver
During the hottest part of the day
Cool & wet we dove deep
Washing the sweat away

But first gotta catch our lunch though
Para nuestro almuerzo
We began chasing chickens, catching them
Plucking these big beautiful hens
We were all just around ten
All we will eat came from the fields
that Grandfather keeps
Just off the to the dirt road
In the mountainous valley that will no longer be

I see a little boy now playing and
Bathing under a rain spout
Smiling ‘cause tomorrow
We won’t have to bring the mules about
We collected all the raindrops
These memories live & shout

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One thought on “Back Home

  1. Remembering how thing were brings home how far you’ve gone. Yet you cherish those memories for the good times instead of just dwelling on the back. Your daughter is growing up with her art intact and growing.

    Like

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