Vol 7, Num 4 :: 2008.02.22 — 2008.03.07
In the window of that adobe
restaurant, her reflection still
haunts me. Always madre
and hija, finally best of amigos.
Over Topopo salad piled like
a hay mound, we nibbled our
Hispanic roots complete
with tequila—margarita style.
Colorful layers of salad
whet our appetite for more
than just a bellyful of lunch.
Rich textures tempted us
to explore—toasty tortilla
crunch against cool guacamole
smoothness. Cold lettuce and
tomatoes mix with warm
refried beans.
A heritage, when revisited,
that’s lost its heart. Henna-
shaded adobe whose magic
vanished, bright Topopo
now sepia dulled. And her
loss, the absence of flavor.
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