Thursday, July 20, 2017

[ ofelia zepeda ]

 smoke in our hair  /excerpts/


Mesquite, cedar, piñón, juniper,
all are distinct.


We walk around the rest of the day
with the aroma resting on our shoulders.


Smoke, like memories, permeates our hair,
our clothing, our layers of skin. 
The smoke travels deep
to the seat of memory.
We walk away from the fire;
no matter how far we walk,
we carry this scent with us.
New York City, France, Germany
we catch the scent of burning wood;
we are brought home. 

Where Clouds are Formed (The University of Arizona Press, 2008).