El Pueblito
-I’m walking around the Mercado, It is hot and humid. I feel my sweat trickle down my spine, Sticky and wet.
-I’m holding a cold pomegranate fruit cup in my hand. I can feel the lemon juice moving around at the bottom of the cup. The pomegranate taste sour, There is a little bit of spice and lemon. Somehow the fruit is sweets at the same time
. -As we walk down the street i feel the sun hit my back. I Feel the air move my brown long hair side to side.
-I remember how my dad used to play with it. I picture my dad waiting outside my aunt’s house whenever I came to mexico to visit. Waiting to touch the long brown hair he loved.
-I picture his dark face and sweet smile. I feel myself getting upset and look up to the blue sky as some tree leaf’s fall off. A leaf as green as a pine trees fir
-My mind is a thunder storm, Messy, sad, and loud.
. My anxiety soon comes back. I am a candle who is being burnt by anxiety.
-I am the wick and i feel the anxiety melting all around me.
-As I snap back to reality I can feel the gravel shift under my feet. The Mercado is loud. Men and women are chatting. Little kids are are asking for sweets. My uncle is talking to me but I can barely hear his old raspy voice.
-My sister is talking to my aunt about what they’re cooking tonight. There salespeople screaming there prices and how their fresh there food is.
-But all I can think about is how excited I am to finally be here. The market is such colorful place. There is fruit everywhere, all different colors. Fruit I’ve never seen before.Fruit I can taste just by looking at it .
-There's Candy everywhere. Candy i want to eat.The sky is blue and clear.
It is a colorful city.
I liked your poem and the way you described the people and things that surrounded you. it was good
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ReplyDeletei liked the way you described your surrounding and the people there, great job
ReplyDeletei liked the way you described your surrounding and the people there, great job
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