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Seasons with Los Primos
A beautifully large, rambling house Silly children spilling out of rooms Screaming, playing, laughing Spending the seasons with los primos.
Secrets, whispers, and giggle-fits Dozing mostly into morning light Malibu Barbie and VHS under the tree Christmas pancakes as the snow flaked.
Scary storms whipping in springtime The ancient tree knocking windows Toys bobbing from basement floods Rubber botas stuck dry in the front lawn.
Screaming laughter, endless chases Fishing lines dropping along the pier Sandy toes, browned skin and salty hair Summertime ease at the Jersey Shore
Tia’s Hatchback led to maniac drives Like human bumper cars in the back Primas jostling, faces pressed on the glass Tia honking, breaks pumping, cackling.
Frenetically fun times como un secreto From step-mom and dad’s stricter gaze Bad cousin influences lurking, stoking Damn hippie niños, wildly daring-do.
Baseball, soccer and Marco Polo Cool cuz dirt-covered in sweaty blood Huge smiles from the brave and injured Hospital rides full of American pride.
Us reserved Northerners so wrapped up Parkas incase snow; sweaters even in summer Watermelon seeds, BBQs, friendship bracelets Lingering memories defying the seasons.
© March 2019, Isabel Alvear