Quince Anos

Quince Años

For Isabel

The young girl sat on the century-old quarry

stone steps, covered in pink, cotton-candied lace.

Her mother’s German brown eyes.

Her father’s Latin smile.

An elegant court surrounded her,

Locked arms and strolled by the river

that held her great-grandmother’s memories

of taffeta debutantes

and secret garden trellises.

She offered white roses to Mother Mary

in honor of the woman she would

become. Her father placed the stronger

soles on her delicate feet. She is ready

to enter her world.

Grandmothers and their mothers

stood in her place. Under desert Suns.

Beneath icy blue stars.

From waltzes on red clay

To box steps on marble.

The young girl climbed the steps

Trailed by mountains of lace,

Sisters, brothers, aunts, uncles

and prayers like postcards

whirling in the summer wind.

Her childhood behind her.

Her future ahead.

Open arms embrace her.

She is the daughter of many.

Susan Ward Trestrail

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