Poetas y Pintores: Artists Conversing with Verse

Acrylic on Canvas, 30" x 24"

Grandmother, in Ensenada

you fall in the street, bloody

your knee like a schoolgirl’s.

No es nada – it’s nothing

you say, walnut cheeks dry,

palms scraped, bones intact.

The wound between your legs

healed in time. You have

released all your seeds.

Your blood flowing through

my veins, drips puddles to my feet.

Whales blow water

through holes in their heads.

Breathe, Abuelita, breathe.

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