Argentina

For the Treehouse that was just a tree
For giant toads, tarantula pets
And mystery cuis

For old book smells and a cool concrete floor
For Hardy Boys and Tolkien, and Susan Cooper
For that book on the Holy Grail with the last few chapters missing
And Bible stories

For empanadas, and Milanesa Napolitana
For papas fritas espai and the ravioli at La Madrileña
For half-cows at the carniceria hanging in the open air
For Dulce de Leche
And pizza at La Fontana

For blazing Olympic torches and tire swings
For bottle rockets,
For burning our homework in the trash pit
And spectacular flames from failed hot air balloons

For barrels, and crates, and hammers and nails
For dogs, and cows, and reservoirs
For wild condors and a dead possum
That just wouldn’t stay buried

For Doña Pepa’s Spanish lessons
And Benita’s gnocchi

For Joel the Fragile
For Johnny the Frightened
For Peter the Strong
And Paul the Brave

For maizenas and Alfajores Havana
For Pan Dulce at Christmas
Piping hot submarinos
And tea with milk

For charangos with armadillo backs
For panpipes, and toy horses with real horsehair
For red ponchos with a black fringe
Symbolizing the blood of Guemes

For Sunday school at Veinte de Febrero
For weekend walks on the peatonal
Even sickness, and beggars
And old jeans with holes in the patches in the knees

Thank you for everything I made
And am made of.