Set within a loose mythological framework, each poem is partnered with a day of the week, playing with its etymology in both Spanish and English.Alarcón juxtaposes this classical imagery with a child's limitless perspective of place. "Thursday / this day is for Jupiter / the largest planet of all / and god of thunder Thor— / like Jupiter and Thor / I feel big and mighty / on Thursday." Daily ritual and mundane activities take on the patina of legend as time molds the character of what a family is and what it becomes. Equating the distinct characteristics of each day with the uniqueness of each family member, the poems embrace the strength of individuality while recognizing the power of the whole. "I begin to see / every day as part / of one big family // where every family / member is unique / so worthy and special." And just as straightforward as Alarcón's uncomplicated language and style are Gonzalez's bold, geometric illustrations rendered in watercolor, gouache, and acrylic markers. From Wednesday's Talavera-inspired rabbit to Saturday's Huichol-like design, the colorful double-page-spread layouts complement the poems' simplicity. Recalling the warmth of family gatherings on the sun's day and the joy of unstructured play on Saturn's day, each tribute resonates with nostalgia for a time when personal interactions were done face to face. This posthumously published bilingual collection will be welcomed by Alarcón's many admirers. (illustrator's note, introduction) (Picture book/poetry. 5-8)

This poetry collection from Chicano poet Alarcón, who died in 2016, includes three or four poems for each day of the week, written in the voice of a boy who reflects on traditions, special gatherings, and time spent with family. An opening note and several verses highlight the mythological origins behind the naming of the days (-Venus and Frigg/ make every Friday/ a Valentine-s Day-). The contemplative poems touch on recognizable events in children-s lives (irritating Monday mornings, endless Wednesdays) and moments of joy and melancholy: -maybe there is another kid/ looking right now at Mars/ up in the night sky/ feeling just as I do-/ like a tiny punctuation dot/ alone amid so much dark.- Gonzalez-s radiant illustrations (inspired by Mexican indigenous crafts, she notes) bring a sense of cosmic oneness to the pages, connecting the boy to his family, community, and the ever-spinning planet. Ages 7-12. (Sept.)