Poem of the Day

Courtesy of the Poetry Foundation. Reason I like it: sensory overload woven into emotional and intellectual tangents.

The author, Ofelia Zepeda, has a phd in linguistics. She is a member of the Tohono O'odham Nation. No, I had no idea what that meant either. Here is more info. The O'odham are yet another Native American group that got screwed in sundry land deals and-bonus-they had the misfortune of living astride what became the border of the US and Mexico, thus preventing them from crossing it freely to this day. 

The border issue is something I was unaware of until I watched Frozen River recently. Unlike the US/Canada border, there was no dual citizenship granted.

Smoke in Our Hair by Ofelia Zepeda

The scent of burning wood holds

the strongest memory.

Mesquite, cedar, piñon, juniper,

all are distinct.

Mesquite is dry desert air and mild winter.

Cedar and piñon are colder places.

Winter air in our hair is pulled away,

and scent of smoke settles in its place.

We walk around the rest of the day

with the aroma resting on our shoulders.

The sweet smell holds the strongest memory.

We stand around the fire.

The sound of the crackle of wood and spark

is ephemeral.

Smoke, like memories, permeates our hair,

our clothing, our layers of skin.

The smoke travels deep

to the seat of memory.

We walk away from the fire;

no matter how far we walk,

we carry this scent with us.

New York City, France, Germany—

we catch the scent of burning wood;

we are brought home.