Lobo, ghost town.

Home is now a deserted town, population two. My "home" is cozy and welcoming, what once was the post office and market, complete with a loft above my bed, a fake fire place, cut out coyotes, sage burning. There is a large pecan grove directly across the highway, crows roost in the trees and swarm friendly with hawks overhead. Great horned owls throw phantom screeches into the newly born night, the coyotes compete with eerie cries. I'm surrounded by silent noise, a still business, a stirring within. Native born into the desert, the unfertile dust, geodes, raw quartz, stinging, biting, hating insects and animals, milky way, shooting stars, solitude, all are very real, near and kind to me. Faces with skin like leather, sun and skepticism clearly written in the lines. A friend in myself, a friend in solitude. Born again into the clay, into the buffalo gourds, into the wild wilderness surrounded by native spirits and calls.

#desert #ghosttown #texas