Chicano Poet

Wednesday, January 18, 2006


Henry Goes To The Mailbox In A Lorca Landscape

As Henry’s Aunt Eudovina drove his mother to give birth to the new baby,
Henry was sent to the mailbox. His father was working in the fields and
would go to the hospital later that evening. Henry never saw his mother
again,she died in childbirth. Henry was twelve.




“Y las que mueren de parto saben en la ultima hora
que todo rumor es piedra y toda huella latido.”


It’s the 1950’s and Henry’s playing
in the dirt driveway of a sharecropper’s
house on Huber Road

which is not paved with gravel
until it gets close to Highway 46,
this is before they put

Interstate 10 a mile away.
Mother has put a circle of stones
to denote the turnaround

to the south side of the house
just in front of the garage
Henry’s dad built himself.

Henry rides his bicycle
to the mailbox,
his dogs chasing him

there and back.
The dirt is Lorca blue
and the corn carnivorous.

Henry can’t read so he doesn’t know
what the mail says
and if the dogs know they aren’t telling.

3 Comments:

At 10:49 AM, Blogger FossilGuy said...

A very touching poem that led to memories of my two raggedy-assed little brothers playing on the hardpan dirt in my parent's 1950's home at Smyrna, Columbia Basin, WA. By the mid '60's they were both in Viet Nam.

 
At 5:18 PM, Anonymous Tru said...

Interesting poem there. It brought up some old memories of my life. Although not anywhere near the 1950s.

I like checking in to find these unique works.

 
At 12:24 AM, Blogger RC said...

Thanks,guys.

 

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