West Texas Nostalgia, Christmas Eve

Poem by Regan Minkel

Driving down Texas Highway 208,
my heart swells with pride.
My babies, still as eggs in the back,
sleep under the widest blue sky. 
Your cowboy hat shifts with flatland turns on
the dash of our Ford pickup. 
Mesquite presses on all sides. 
An unpaved road gapes wide for us. 

The babies crack awake and reach for their
shoes, giddy voices now bouncing atop an
endless caliche road. 

We stop for bourbon and smoked meat,
caked dirt and hunting knives—
deep smile lines. 
A shot at the buck, in twilight. 

Regan Minkel resides in East Texas where she teaches college writing classes full time. She is inspired by her children, who teach her how to play, and her husband.

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