I am
I am from a mature lemon tree from tall uncut grass,
And pots and pans,
I am from the blue broken house and bags full of recyclables, to the smell of home-cooked pozole, and the feeling of comfort,
I am from the nopales planted on the fence,
To the willow tree whose long-gone limbs I remember as if they were my own.
I’m from family gatherings and recalentadas, from storytelling & crying,
From my mother and sister
I’m from card games and dice,
and from family visits to bonfires,
I’m from si se puede, and everything happens for a reason,
And nonstop oldies and corridos,
I’m from baking cakes on birthdays and fishing in the evenings,
I’m from Sacramento, the capital of California,
and deep roots in Mexico, a proud Mexican and Cora,
And from Chile rellenos to lasagna,
From a hardworking immigrant who has been hardworking since the age of 10, who has always been selfless and full of calluses on his hands, from high school graduation ceremonies to fond memories and photos of every milestone, hidden away in a safe spot in my mind, never to be lost.
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