Translations

Finding the carcass of a cardinal on the road—its blood blacker than asphalt, in the night—I remember my mother, who reminds me of her mother. "Que Jesus me la cuide y me la aga gordita y barigonsita," she'd say—and I'd think, just another part of me that isn't. Exchange the word: family; maybe that would make the difference. She'd say: Kiss the tiger's eye for luck, and I'd pop the glass bead into my mouth, roll it around on my tongue. From her mouth, floorboards don't creak; they croon.