Under the Tree
by Joel D. Rodriguez-Rivera Issue Two: Poetry
Photo by José Ignacio Pompé
“The only wish my father had
was for me to give him a grandson.”
She would hold me in her arms and nurse me to sleep
within the warm length of the hamaca.
…duérmete mi niño,
duérmete mi sol,
duérmete pedazos
de mi corazón…
“You have the eyes of your grandfather—
his spirit lives in you.”
I smile and quiver. She lies.
How could I? I sometimes find myself with a pool of tears
lingering on those eyes—his eyes—
inexplicable moments of apathy,
unresolved.
“He was the kindest man I knew.”
She says she was told about his death by a mysterious stranger on a bus ride home.
“…the kindest man I knew…” she would whisper to herself.
She was awoken by her own screams. A fist continuously landing on her stomach.
Countless tears would linger at the bottom of her jaw,
as a man does before he jumps off the ledge,
when he is pushed to that edge
and takes flight.
“You are the spitting image of him.”
All the spit I remember being was the one that would escape from the mouths of the other kids at school.
“Te pareces a tu abuelo.”
An image that I can’t seem to conjure in my head.
Lo amé ciegamente una vez.
She still idolizes him, and looks for him in places that brand new scars to her heart
and mine.
“He was the kindest man I knew. He killed himself.”
And then, I understood
and fell asleep.
Joel D. Rodriguez-Rivera is a Puerto Rican writer and editor who experiments with memory in different genres of writing and imagery. He studied at the University of Puerto Rico at Mayaguez, where he created literary initiatives and spaces in collaboration with diverse artists, writers, and storytellers which resulted in the collaborative literature and arts journal, [Id]entidad. Currently, he specializes in financial literacy in Chicago where he collaborates with different non-profits and financial institutions that cater to assist immigrants, non-residents and permanent residents with access to resources for fulfilling long-term life priorities in the United States.
