Frijoles

The night was unexpectedly cold,

like a black and white

family portrait.

 

For some reason,

I remember the stars sparkling

in the kitchen,

as we sat at the table.

 

We were hungry.

You were tired.

 

but you made us frijoles

and they were so warm.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s