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#texmex
Shadows move with my feet on the cobblestone from the sunlight dancing on the picado banners that stretch between buildings And offer some reprieve From the Texas sun. The mouth-watering scent of pan dulce Draws children to the glass fronts of the old bakery, And they flit between sweet breads And figurines of brilliant colors Crowding stands run by elderly craftsmen and women with big smiles- San Antonio, There’s something in your streets. Something binds me to your old, leaning buildings, And the murals that decorate them, San Antonio, My first memories of reading Reside on 600 Soledad Street between the shelves of the Big Enchilada, And dapple down through the glossy, colorful limbs of its Chihuly spine. You exist in the border between coastal plains and the hill country, Mesquite trees and palm trees living side by side Just as the German and Spanish settlements do, The missions becoming as much a part of the land As the Guadelupe. With tequila on my tongue, And boots on my feet, I’m prepared to bask in the warmth absorbed by sandy loam And breathe in the smell of elotas on a Sunday afternoon To the sound of San Fernando’s bells, Oh, San Antonio… I’ve never wished for a better dwelling, Even one with cooler summers And smoother streets, Oh, San Antonio… I’d be a fool to leave you, To call another home, And I’ve never found myself foolish before, So my dearest, sweetest, most proud San Antonio, I am here to stay.
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Jun 29, 2018
Jun 29, 2018 at 11:45 AM UTC
emily-miller-1
The San Antonio Way
Shadows move with my feet on the cobblestone from the sunlight dancing on the picado banners that stretch between buildings And offer some reprieve From the Texas sun. The mouth-watering scent of pan dulce Draws children to the glass fronts of the old bakery, And they flit between sweet breads And figurines of brilliant colors Crowding stands run by elderly craftsmen and women with big smiles- San Antonio, There’s something in your streets. Something binds me to your old, leaning buildings, And the murals that decorate them, San Antonio, My first memories of reading Reside on 600 Soledad Street between the shelves of the Big Enchilada, And dapple down through the glossy, colorful limbs of its Chihuly spine. You exist in the border between coastal plains and the hill country, Mesquite trees and palm trees living side by side Just as the German and Spanish settlements do, The missions becoming as much a part of the land As the Guadelupe. With tequila on my tongue, And boots on my feet, I’m prepared to bask in the warmth absorbed by sandy loam And breathe in the smell of elotas on a Sunday afternoon To the sound of San Fernando’s bells, Oh, San Antonio… I’ve never wished for a better dwelling, Even one with cooler summers And smoother streets, Oh, San Antonio… I’d be a fool to leave you, To call another home, And I’ve never found myself foolish before, So my dearest, sweetest, most proud San Antonio, I am here to stay.
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There was a fence, it was white, it lined the road, the road was made of stones, the air was always hot and sticky, holding moisture the sun felt dry and prickly on your skin, the grass was stiff and long, like straw, extending into an invisible backdrop. The sky was vast, wrapping around the farmlands, the trees, the quiet grass, the yellow and white and pink houses with frayed wooden doors. Peach and violet clouds splayed magnificently across this sky at sunset like smears of paint. Trucks and cars bumped down this narrow, hidden path as the days trickled into nights.
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Mar 25, 2015
Mar 25, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC
aseh
La Frontera
There was a fence, it was white, it lined the road, the road was made of stones, the air was always hot and sticky, holding moisture the sun felt dry and prickly on your skin, the grass was stiff and long, like straw, extending into an invisible backdrop. The sky was vast, wrapping around the farmlands, the trees, the quiet grass, the yellow and white and pink houses with frayed wooden doors. Peach and violet clouds splayed magnificently across this sky at sunset like smears of paint. Trucks and cars bumped down this narrow, hidden path as the days trickled into nights.
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