of Xochimilco, just south of Mexico City,
once a retreat for Aztec rulers, now
a respite for tourists and families on
warm summer Sunday afternoons.
We came to celebrate a wedding
and sat smiling, on a great, flowered gondola
with our daughter and new son-in-law;
our host poled slowly along the canals,
occasionally passing boats of musicians, their
songs and guitar music lifting above the warm waters.
We ate grilled chicken with our sticky fingers,
purchased from an old woman in a dugout canoe,
her grill balanced in the bottom of her little boat
as she darted between the gondolas.
Now I remember those sweet days of long ago
as I play with my grandchildren and sing the songs
|Our Gondola at Xochimilco|