The Little Wooden Store

We used to walk to the little wooden store, five blocks from the house, not very much more. a quarter was all we had in our hands, but we were the richest kids in the land. Across the train tracks, and an old market road, where all kinds of vehicles carried their loads, to the little wooden store, we went every day, laughing and running all of the way. A bottle of coke was what we had in mind, then we'd put in some peanuts, man, that was so fine, outside the store we'd sit in the sun, just drinking our sodas, till the day was done. Then we'd walk back, in the Lonestar twilight, away from the little wooden store, and the coming night, we were so happy youthful and free, that little wooden store, meant the world to me. I dedicate this poem to my brother, and my very best friend, Jose Luis Elizondo, who is always there for me. Since we were kids to the present day. What would I do without you. I love you Pepe, 5/11/10 29 palms ca.