“Translating Grandfather’s House”

Translating Grandfather's House

According to my sketch,

Rows of lemon & mango

Trees frame the courtyard

Of Grandfather’s stone

And clapboard home;

The shadow of a palomino,1

Gallops on the lip

Of the horizon.

The teacher says

The house is from

Some Zorro

Movie I’ve seen.

“Ask my mom,” I protest.

“She was born there—

Right there on the second floor!”

Crossing her arms she moves on.

Memories once certain as rivets

Become confused as awakenings

In strange places and I question

The house, the horse, the wrens

Perched on the slate roof—

The roof Oscar Jartín

Tumbled from one hot Tuesday,

Installing a new weather vane;

(He broke a shin and two fingers).

Classmates finish drawings of New York City

Housing projects on Navy Street.

I draw one too, with wildgrass

Rising from sidewalk cracks like widows.

In big round letters I title it:

GRANDFATHER’S HOUSE

Beaming, the teacher scrawls

An A+ in the corner and tapes

It to the green blackboard.

To the green blackboard.