The fried bread
made me think of my abuelita’s hands
El pan frito
the fried bread
made me think of my abuelita’s hands
small hands for a small woman with a giant heart.
No one ever went hungry at my abuelita’s house.
The first one up, she’d walk to the corner panaderia (bakery) for our daily bread.
And you’d hear the sound of the kitchen waking up with her.
Nunca se sentaba
not a moment of rest
that is until …