Picnic In San Fernando

She lays the white cloth on the ground of grass and opens the cans of coke with gentle flicks On a little narra table she sets the plates each with three hanging rice, and a quarter of lechon While he broils ten sticks of barbecue on the grill wiping his sweat as they trickle down to his cheeks Smiles paint the little faces of their children running against the count of hide and seek with the other kids in the plaza as the embers dry to the cooling sun she calls them all to gather round hands washed, faces flashing they say a little prayer before partaking from the small banquet of love