Seria Labor

I can see you back at home
with gifts and clothes to wash
and a bag of sand with seashells
while Filia hugs you, welcome home.

This weekend you'll surely take us out
maybe to the Chinese place or a restaurant,
I suggest grilled meat, tacunga, and cuevas,
with these new boots, who can stop me.

So many unmatched memories have stayed with me
and yesterday, good friend, I started to remember.
And this life that spins like a wheel at the fair
puts me in the serious work of being a dad.

I remember you fighting the multiplication table
with my stubborn head that never learned
or heading to La Marquesa, tight and crazy,
fifteen are few for your old car.

From the Poli plain flying to space
distant kites bid us farewell
and in the crooked tree, next to the planetarium,
we'll play barefoot, pretending to pilot a plane.