Sunday, May 12, 2013
I am Countless Boxes
PICTURE PERFECT
—Charles Mariano, Sacramento
old pictures
boxes
of yellowed, faded
paper
hours and hours
searching
falling deeper
Merced, California
where everything’s still
black and white
the sound of an old box camera
whirs
in the background
the house on McGregor
the smell of fresh rolled tortillas
kids
racing through the house
babies crying
birthdays, weddings, holidays
familiar sights and sounds
a reception at the Morelos Club
behind Merced Fairgrounds
a celebration
Alonzo’s, Mariano’s,
Avina’s, Saldana’s, Martinez’s,
singing, dancing
laughing
Mama’s smiling face
Daddy’s gentle hand
in the living room
the house on 12th
framed pictures on the wall
of all of us, as kids
Mama holds me in her lap
the smell of Zest soap,
and Avon perfume
the sound
of her soothing voice
rocks me to sleep
the old camera box
rolls, whirs…
on a warm, summer day
I am
countless boxes,
yellowed, faded
paper,
cherished memories
a lifetime ago
______________________
—Medusa