Sonny Still Fights The Mexicans

Nearly eighty years of hard work
Can be seen in his eyes.
The scars and wrinkles on his hands
Hold no big surprise.

He waves to all the neighbors
In his suspenders and blue jeans.
But at night, Sonny still fights
The Mexicans in his dreams.

Whether home or at the deer camp
He screams all through the nights.
He hollers words in Spanish,
He cusses and he fights.

He's an older generation
And to this day it seems
Late at night, Sonny still fights
The Mexicans in his dreams



(Dedicated to my grandfather Sonny)