Poetry is like a song, like a psalm, like a prayer. Poetry is different things to many people, and April being Poetry Month, The Latina Book Club is celebrating by featuring Latino poets all week long. We welcome to our site former Poet Laureate Thelma T. Reyna , who has graciously shared with us an autobiographical poem, a glimpse from her childhood. GROWING UP DUSTY IN A SMALL TEXAS TOWN Our ankles were always gray, caliche dust swirling like guardian angels around twiggy brown legs leaping potholes, tripping on dirt clods. Nine children oblivious to what it meant to be growing up dusty. In winter, rivers of mud separated us from Licha, Juan, Susie. Dripping mesquite trees beckoned. Black puddles dotted our ‘hoodscape far as child eyes could see, little lakes navigated house to house as we grew up dusty. When morning light tickled our bedfaces, dervishes danced through cracks and chinks in sills and walls and f...