Seventh-grader Güero starts writing poems, thanks to his teacher. A Mexican-American, he's at home in Spanish or English and on both sides of the river.It 's fun to be a border kid, to wake up early SaturdaysAnd cross the bridge to Mexico with my dad.The town's like a mirror twin of our own,With Spanish spoken everywhere just the sameBut English mostly missing till it pops upLike grains of sugar on a spicy pepper.We have breakfast in our favorite restoránDad sips café de olla while I drink chocolateThen we walk down uneven sidewalks, chattingWith strangers and friends in both languages.Later we load our car with Mexican cokes and Joya,Avocados and cheese, tasty reminders of our roots.Waiting in line at the bridge, though, my smile fades.The border fence stands tall and ugly, invadingThe carrizo at the river's edge.Dad sees me staring ,Puts his hand on my shoulder."Don' t worry, m' ijo:"You're a border kid, a foot on either bank.Your ancestors crossed this river a thousand times.No wall, no matter how tall, can stop your heritageFrom flowing forever, like the Río Grande itself."David Bowles grew up and still lives in the Rio Grande Valley of South Texas. A many- faceted writer, he's the author of Feathered Serpent, Dark Heart of Sky: Myths of Mexico. He's a professor at the University of Texas Rio Grande Valley.