Lou is a native Texan, and if her poem is any indication, a very excellent writer. If she doesn't have a blog, perhaps we can convince her to begin one. What better way to meet such interesting folks?
South Texas Christmas at Home, 2006
A chilly rain falls through the night
I awaken early in the big front room
Under a quilt made 60 years on --
Blue and gold, the old “Dresden Plate,”
It has warmed countless souls, calmed them,
I can touch my grandmother in each square.
The girl who cleans each week
Brings tamales, hot, homemade,
We shuck several, salt and savor them --
Perfect with hot chocolate and divinity.
Memories of other Christmas days are near,
There are small sweet cookies and carols.
Mama forgets its Christmas, but
Seems happy with the tree, the
Candy and the visit from her cousin.
She asks me all day, “Did it rain?”
We eat pozole, go for a drive,
And talk about people long gone.
I notice who calls and who doesn’t.
We open a few gifts, complain about family,
Wonder why the cousin’s kids never
Came and say we’re glad she visits us.
The sun settles fast at dusk, it’s cold and
Clear and quiet as evening gathers round.
Down the street, I hear ranchera on the radio,
Firecrackers pop and sizzle in the early dark.
Lights go on in little houses with roses still
Blooming in side yards. The orange trees are
Heavy with fruit and the red dirt of back streets
Coats everything that moves with a light touch.
Christmas whispers, time passes, we fall silent.
L. Wetherbee, December 25, 2006, in Dilley