Brown

Brown is my dad's over worked hands,
Chapped and dry from giving me a better life.

Brown is the corner of 5th and Main in Corpus,
Buying mangos from a lady that calls everyone "mi hijo"

Brown is the attitude that lingers with every Maria and Lupe
When they see another trampa looking at their hombre

Brown is the kitchen that is the nest to gossiping mouths
And gambling hands every Sunday afternoon during a game of loteria

Brown is the lesson that is passed down with every teaching of tortilla making
Caso welding, and field weeding

Drinking cafe con leche, eating galletitios
Brown is the shadow of eight at the table

          MONICA MEDRANO