Nicky's Blog

Abuelo

Your living room was bare and dark.

I would open the shades

to allow the light

to drown out the bareness.

Your walls were bare, too,

with only a framed photo

of my mom.

Mom sleeping

with one arm bent

at the elbow,

resting on her forehead.

I sleep this way,

too.

Inside your living room

were two wood chairs

that seemed

to hold

the house together.

Your hammock,

hung shyly between

two corners

of two walls.

I loved

to

soften my knees

and

fall backwards

into your hammock’s

safe embrace.

A faint cloud of dust

arose

each time,

encircling me.

I loved the feeling

of my body

held tightly,

safe from

all that isn’t good.

I loved swinging,

as I lay,

with one leg perched

on your floor.

I loved your bare room.

I loved you.

---