years ago my auntie allie
and little cousin jovi came
from their small farm in sonoma
before wineries put that county on the map
they visited us
my very brown father
my white stepmother
my brown face
down-to-the-waist
no-denying-my-missing-african-link hair
in that house
in middle class white suburbia
that same world i had visited on weekends
only moved to from the mission
after my mother died
a year earlier
jovi and i played on dad’s front lawn
a sloppy throw
bungled catch
jovi yelled
the ball went into the road!
i laughed and laughed
it’s a street not a road!
as i stepped off the sidewalk
today auntie still lives in forestville
jovi moved to a place called bend
they laugh and laugh at me
without sidewalks
here on garden road
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