(as published in the Fall 2023 Cenizo Journal) This is a story of a horse and the girl who loves him. I lie back on the picnic bench and dip one toe into the sand tracing lines to and fro. An arm thrown over my head blocking the sun. A slow breeze rustles the strings of my cut off shorts and I can just make out the sound of waves lapping in the distance. Above, clouds of watered ink stretch across a crisp, white canvas - shaping themselves to the contours of the land. I ris

The dogs lie panting, tongues lolling sideways. It seems they are constantly panting these days. The air is still. The only other...

There is life in the brush under the deadwood Hidden Waiting to come out To stretch and yawn with arms wide open We step along a trail of...

Sometimes you need to stand in the wind. Sun on your face, tangled hair be damned. To walk barefoot in the sand. To sit on the steps and lean back, beer in hand and just breathe. Big, full belly breathing – the kind which calms and steadies the most nervous of hands. Recognizing no demands except the bird asking to be heard, the fly asking to be swatted, and the warm summer asking you to stay. I cross the rio where the Spaniards and Commanche crossed it and rode up the ot

When it rains here you go outside. Barefoot. The mountains fade in the gray and the wind gusts, moving through you like an old screen...