Where do the things we loved to pieces go, when they are lost or taken away? Write a poem in which you imagine the life they had after you. (from Luisa Igloria)
Banana pancakes, my lola said
Small flat discs with misshapen edges:
lightly fried fritters made
of overripe fruit, a touch of flour, dash of sugar
This was our afterschool snack
our merienda, the peace
before fractions wracked my brain
Where are you now, beloved maruya?
Hidden in the black speckled dots of peels?
Living in the mouths of other kids?
Have you gone to live with my lola
who has been lost to the earth?
Or are you waiting to be reborn
in the skillet of my kitchen?