Colcha

3515 wyandot

81 3515 wyandot i return to this house like a flower to its seed a young girl the earth giving and dark as i plant yellow roses with my grandpa Epi in the morning before the smell of tortillas and potatoes frying my grandpa will dress in his blue uniform his hat so perfectly stiff my abuelita and i lying side by side watching him go his hand like a flower in bloom as he waves goodbye the roses the roses you and your grandpa planted my grandmother says to me have grown so beautiful against this south facing brick wall i smile because i have grown too returning in all seasons to see the roses sometimes living sometimes so patiently clinging waiting for a warm southern sun grandpa Epi with his blue uniform my brother and i playing in the long back yard 82 my grandma calling to us from the kitchen the smell of green chile so delicately resting on her skin i have grown my grandpa Epi has died yet i return to 3515 wyandot the smell of candles and perfume knowing my abuelita has worked all day on her hands and knees cleaning floors her santos mary and jesus watching her penance the roses have gone wild i return again a flower year after year blooming its way back to a seed sown childhoods ago the house in other’s hands that do not light candles or clean for santos the roses so yellow and old have bloomed and broken from the lattice no singing voices from the rooms smoke and the sound of a hungry cat breathe from the carpet in a house i no longer recognize 83 no sound from the kitchen the gas range has no words or scents to offer this house with its cracking walls some would say has given up its good spirits the songs and stories are a vacant back yard with cans and broken tables a sad trail of seed i who as a girl planted yellow roses here begin to cry i seek the roses out against the south wall the roses have gone wild no longer a part of the house they reach like the hands of one hundred spirits in full bloom waving goodbye for Michele ...