The Bridge

I am from a sunny beach and broken hopes

From the soft sand and roaring waves

I am from the Golden Bridge and busy traffic

The burning sun, loud cars, smell of gasoline and salt water

I am from the “quilt beach” with soft sand, big waves and hot sun

I am from pozole and too many siblings from Peeky and Juno

I’m from court houses and jail cells

From doing whatever you have to, then making time to visit my brother

From praise God but missing church

From West Hayward where the sun lives thirty minutes on the bus

Cooking as a family to eating alone

Collect calls and sirens crowding the block

The anger in her eyes hiding fear

Wishing for a happy photo but none were

Over genuine broken hearts and bail

Will forever be on our minds