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Pan
April 5, 2019
I remember waddling,
Waddling like a penguin,
Into his embrace.
“MIJOO” he would yell,
I said gibberish back,
He picked me up,
Up into a piggy back.
“PAN PAN PAN!”
The bread he brought,
Was my favorite thing.
The warm fluffiness filled my mouth,
“Gracias Papa,” I said struggling to eat and chew.
He set me down,
Gave me the loaf of bread,
And as I waddled quickly away,
He smiled the last smile I ever saw of his.
© Junia Z., San Diego, CA
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