home, texas

the two sisters, alpine, texas

settling home in familiarity, nostalgic scent of oak wood smoke mornings, posole with green chile (i've been eating too much), her skin; look out far, far and every single sight calls up memory: dry feet, teary-eyed from the cook fire, the cholla. it's been six years and i am remembering how to be here: spicy, under a brim, with an eye out for prickles and light, thin beauty. the doves are skinny on the lines. the dogs have almost no hair. only the people tend towards plumpness, and big cars.

the wind was too much for the babe so we walk, blowing in the wind.

i realise the coconut knows how to weave. who else?

also, in the way being far away does, i reflect on the deliciousness of home. deep green and our colourful bookshelves, the hush of snow. grateful for both there and here, which is a delicate and important lesson for me. how to love this and that, simultaneously.

k.