Sandra Cisneros is Rocking my World_Part 2

I'm getting ahead of myself here, but while at the beach I read The House on Mango Street, by Sandra Cisneros for the first time. For those of you who haven't read it, regardless of age or sex, I give a firm recommendation. It's a collection of mini short stories, that come together to create a picture of life for a young Latino growing up in Chicago. It's really, really eloquently written from a completely fresh perspective. The best part is, each mini story is written so strongly that they can (and do) stand alone. Here is one called 4 Skinny Trees that had me in chills:

Four Skinny Trees
They are the ones who understand me. I am the only one who understands them. Four skinny trees with skinny necks and pointy elbows like mine. Four who do not belong here but are here. Four raggedy excuses planted by the city. From our room we can hear them, but Nenny just sleeps and doesn't appreciate these things.

There strength is secret. They send ferocious roots beneath the ground. They grow up and they grow down and grab the earth between their hairy toes and the bite the sky with violent teeth and never quit their anger. This is how they keep.

Let one forget his reason for being, they'd all droop like tulips in a glass, each with their arms around the other. Keep, keep, keep, trees say when I sleep. They teach.

When I am too sad and skinny to keep keeping, when I am a tiny thing against so many bricks, this is it I look at trees. When there is nothing left to look at on this street. Four who grew despite concrete. Four who reach and do not forget to reach. Four whose only reason is to be and be.

— The House on Mango Street, Sandra Cisneros