Cherry Cherry Chica #1

30" x 15" x 1.5"

Acrylic on Canvas

In a Plateaued Orchard

I Was in My Teens

A Man Gave Me a Job

His Years Were Not Green

 

I Met a Mexican Girl

Her Skin and Form Were Fine

Told Me She was Migrant

Would be Leaving in Time

 

Five Years My Elder

Couldn’t Give Her My Heart

I Knew She Would be Leaving

Tearing My World Apart

 

She Gave Me a Golden Comb

To Remember Her Grace

It Made the Old Man Angry

I Could See it on His Face

 

His Green Eyes Were Raging

Desires of the Flesh

He Craved that Cherry

Their Ages Didn’t Mesh

 

She Was Only Nineteen

He Was a Rusty Can

Some Would Say He Was

A Dirty Old Man

 

We Made the Connection

The Old Man Was After

Through Conversations

Of Love, Life, and Laughter

 

One Day the Man Told Me

He Had to Let Me Go

It Wasn’t for My Effort

It Was His Green-Eyed Glow