I am from poverty
from rocks that I played as toy cars.
I am from the house made of earth and straw brick walls, clay tile roofs and soiled floors, from its freshness during the summer and its wet earth smell on rainy days.
I am from the wild cosmos flower valley,
The eight yellow petals and the green stem that covered the entire area.
I am from Saint Franscisto de Asis carnival on October 3rd,
and the strict, the humble and the respect,
from Maria del Carmen
and Esau and the Ayala’s.
I am from going to the field to work on the crops after school
and to feed the horses, donkeys and pigs.
From going to the mountains to cut firewood
and going to the springs in the mountains to bring spring water to drink.
I am from the Catholic church and school,
From going to church every Sunday and from having nun teachers.
I’m from Olinala, from Xixila and Xitopontla Mexico,
From the daily fried eggs with hot sauce breakfast to the refried beans lunch and dinner
From my aunt Fausta who was said to be a sesame seed of all moles because she would be present in every celebration.
I am from memories stored in the closet,
from my sibling’s school graduations to my sister’ wedding.
You did a good job of describing the different type of struggle in your childhood. Growing up in the city I had lived a certain amount of poverty. The poverty you describe makes me appreciate the things I went through.
Hi Jesus! I really like your poem; I was able to picture a lot of the things you were describing as I read it. A lot of it made me think back to the country I lived in when I was younger, the DR.
I like your poem. I was a good one. As I was reading your poem, I was thinking about those problems that many immigrants face.
I like how descriptive your poem is, Your description of your house made it easy to picture and the rest of your poem followed suit. You really shard the small details of the earlier years of your life and shared a lot about yourself as well.