Cuentos Viejos by Rod Ricardo-Livingstone

Cuentos Viejos

Grandma would sit and tell us
how it was.
The stories about the past came freely,
ever since the time Grandpa passed.
To most, she was letting go.
To my ears she was helping
to hold on.
The stories came about how her father migrated
to escape the bloodshed of la Revolución.
How a railroad yard in Dodge City,
a campo in Firebaugh,
and a neighborhood in Fresno
wove together to create my reality.
We try to let go of a past
when it causes a remembrance of tears,
but we only release words
while experiences, emotions and memories
remain seated around the table retelling stories.