Honduran wife, me
American, kids, mixed. When
My son gets anxious,

And has a tantrum,
I like to chuckle, they’re just
Hispanic attacks.

His angelic face
Belies his unrelenting
Focus, willpower,

Reminiscent of
His ancestors, the Mayans,
Eons gone. From

Double helices,
Serpents winding round, will he
Recreate in the

Midwest, staggering
Stoneworks, aligned with all the
Celestial networks?

From him, will there rise
A new civilization,
Founded on respect,

Harmony with the
World? I can only hope
I don’t block his path.

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