Plans

By Nana Nimako

It is hot
here. My fingers are sore.
But I will
endure.
I will work and work and then
they will come

In the dark there
are Tita’s carnitas on my tongue;
mi hija stretched golden

In the sun,
in these fields,
I only smell the grapes
as they sit and
wait for me:
slowly baking
in the heat.

Leave a Reply

Heads up! You are attempting to upload an invalid image. If saved, this image will not display with your comment.