I remember the house where I was born
my Tia’s hidden garden in our backyard
my treasured hideaway, filled with the brightest sunflowers
so close, yet so far from the blue sky
Bright flowers of multi-hues
shine as the sun peak through cloudy a.m. skies
the roses
Red and White
my grandmother’s favorites
You sigh
It’s different here
you are at peace here
out of sight. Out of mind from the world
this is my place of comfort and familiarity
where every inch of the ground calls out to you as they want to be explored
I remember where I used to swing
ever so high
holding on as tight as I could to the unsturdy rope tied upon the tree
an object so simple yet it transmitted me around my neighborhood
you are free to get lost and play
I remember the flower lady that stood on Imperial hwy and Central avenue
with giant flower buckets
I remember seeing the ice cream truck approaching down the street
the way I ran as quickly as I could to ask my mum for money
I remember the different scents that flowed in the air
the smoke that filled the air as my next door vecinos grilled outdoors
the type of scent that made me look forward to weekends
Carnitas on the grill
oranges searing as they hit the grill
carne asada marinating, waiting to be sampled
our typical type of weekends
when all the tias and tios invited themselves over at our home
the loud ranchera songs that my Tio San Juan never got tired of playing
days filled with laughter and loud voices as we played Loteria
If I had the power to turn back the clock
go back to that house at the start of the block
the house that was HOME when I was a kid
I know I’d love it more now that I did before.
