Poem for Raquel (Who Is Losing Her Mind, And Maybe That’s Fine, Seeing As How We’ve All Wrecked Up The Place Lately)

Alan Hanson
Jun 4 · 1 min read

When you grew me I could not
say abuelita nor pronounce the L’s
in Tigerlilly but love you loudly I still did
and wore my cousins’ jealousy like a cape
in crisp California sun, your first son’s first son,
prodigal not proud but perpetually returning.

When I think of you holding me all Kodachrome and known
I whisper abuelita and pronounce a disappearing home
and still love you loudly no matter how jealous I am
of your forgetting, grateful to know you don’t know my wilting,
you in the recliner draped in Lifetime’s blue lighting
and me like a memory, a horrid husk in hiding.

Alan Hanson

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Writer | California Son | alan-hanson.com