not much. but Enough. room to go forward.. just some marks. and isn't that how it is????, just some marks??????
undaunted, i brought forward the caste iron pot, the aluminum pot. Emrie had found that
wand
it was under this tin house… if you can, see the magic marks on it, that language. the toad cloth, the bell. She found it. double click.
and i remembered BEANS to day. Making beans.
New Mexico. Polvadera. Valley Loop Road.
where i lived.
Beans. I remembered going to Super Mart, the small local grocery, scooping out a bag of pinto beans. Going just across the roads to Kenny Bustamante's house, his mom coming to the door and she would invite me in while she went to get me my chili. the dried red chili needed for these beans. You put two in. They cook. a long time. all day. into the evening and then you spoon out a bowl. A bowl of beans.
a bowl of beans
My across the road neighbor Margie taught me how to cook. I learned. My beans were
good after a while.
but never , compared to Margie's. Not quite. ever. her beans came from her blood.
i realize how i cannot go there, still, yet, back to that place where i lived. This is the first time i've realized it. i can't. still. it's like it is still exactly as it was…the day i left….
eeeeeee….i can't.
the moon. is huge. and low.
windthread 
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