Watching the Rio Grande Crest at Father McNaboe Park

Watching the Rio Grande Crest at Father McNaboe Park

By: Alejandra Martinez

Months before I turned 17, the river swallowed the park.
Breathless whispers of neighbors filled the streets.
The TV warned of the swell, the river reaching out, embracing the city.
We walked into the neighborhood, curious.
We walked the familiar sidewalks, not knowing what to expect.
The muddied streets and occasional puddles dampening our Vans.
We arrived and watched, silence curling up between us.
We stood at the crest of the rolling hills and saw an ocean.
Childhood memories, sweltering afternoons remedied with paletas,
Smoke curling from grills, the sour notes of beer and cigarettes,
Mingling into something familiar and sweet.
The realization in me, heavy like bedrock, that the past can always be swept away.

I believe poetry can be a way to capture a moment. A memory, a time, a place. I want my poetry to evoke memories and crystalize the intangible, at least for a moment. When someone reads my poems, I want them to know exactly how I was feeling, and maybe see some of their past experiences reflected at them too.

Alejandra Martinez
Alejandra Martinez has been writing since she was at Lamar Middle School. From her English class notebooks to her diary, to her notes app, to freelance work, writing has been an essential part of how she navigates and savors her daily life. Her writing seeks to crystalize the ephemeral, share specific experiences widely, and help others feel seen.

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