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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