By Alexis Sandoval
Aunt Rosanne’s Truchas Ranch
belongs to my father’s least favorite brother.
It doesn’t matter. I’ll still speckle
like horses, tails like distant dogs.
I’ll still rumble like road, spoke
like wheel, split like wind, and drop like snow
so that when she goes, I can remember
the chocolate chip cabinet under the stairs.
Legs bitten bumpy. Christmas Tupperware
come June.
Aunt’s paint oiled by a trembling hand.
My father—a boy—in the other room.
Division of the Equine by Ronald C. Walker
About the Author
Alexis Sandoval is an undergraduate student at Gonzaga University in Spokane, Washington. A New Mexico native, Sandoval writes poems to celebrate the people and places close to her heart. Currently majoring in English and minoring in economics, Sandoval hopes to become a technical writer.
About the Artist
Ronald C. Walker is an artist living and working out of the Sacramento area of California. He works in a style he calls "Suburban Primitive." This style combines his interest in the origins and functions of art along with life in the suburbs. Mr. Walker has had more than 50 solo exhibitions over the years, and his work can be found in several collections, most recently the Morris Graves Museum of Art in Eureka, CA. He holds both an MFA and an MA in painting and is a retired art teacher of more than 30 years.