in harmony

The salty taste of arroz con gandules, carne vieja and a slice of cold aguacate.

The daytime soap opera plays in the background as I wait for mami to leave work and get me.

My grandma sings hymns softly while my grandpa looks out the window.

A chorus of bird songs accompany Grandma’s melody.

A toddler, I sit on the chilly tile floor, preferring this to the sofa with the plastic.

Grandpa was always so quiet; Grandma was loud and commanding.

They were perfectly in harmony as they rocked in their chairs, and I daydreamed and loved them.