I am from hair bands,
From hairspray and bobby pinned strands.
I am from lights hanging above the stage.
Creating countless stars impossible to gauge).
I am from the charter bus,
The choir room
The mirrors that have seen all of us,
a thousand sweating dancers.
I’m from flour and ovens,
From Sinatra and Rowling.
I’m from the loud mouths
And the hear-me-outs,
From Wake up! And Sing out!
I’m from church pews
And ladies clad in hats
And introductions and reviews.
I’m from Miami and Havana’s Streets,
Fried plantains and linen sheets.
From the rights mi abuelo lost
To el dictador,
The sleep mi gran abuela fought, that being only the smallest cost.
I am from a closet full of boxes
Caked in dust and love,
A pile of black ,white and sepia
scenes of dainty white gloves.
I am from the Christmas mornings--
long before my time--
From presents opened without the fear of crime.