Our Daughters in the Backyard Swing

[kolemath]

EDIT 1

Our Daughters in the Backyard Swing
 
Below volcano San Pedro
a Mayan master weaver hustled you
 
into her dusty blanket shelter
revealing woven Quetzal suns, embroideries of moons and flowers.
 
In Tz’utujil, Spanish, English her finger crooked
toward a blanket swing, hung from nearby trees.
 
“It fits two.”
“Si ella sea pequeñita.”
 
You punched my arm
and pointed toward the one with green and blue.



FIRST DRAFT
Below volcano San Pedro
a Mayan master weaver hustled you
 
into her dusty blanket shelter on the street
to woven Quetzal suns, embroideries of moon and flower.
 
In Tz’utujil, Spanish, English her finger crooked
toward a blanket swing, hung from nearby trees.
 
“It fits two.”
“Si ella sea pequeñita.”
 
You punched my arm
and slapped my laughing chin.