Outskirts of Victoria, Texas

As my sisters help me to unload my bags
we look out from the gravel driveway and
there are no houses blocking our vision so
we can see all the way until the Earth
curves and the blue turns a shade of white.
When we were little, we would scream—
I mean we would holler—into the empty space
before us; like the coyote, we’d give a call.
We’d howl until we gasped for breath
until the air had left our small bodies
then we would go silent and wait
from across the grasses for
the echo to come back.
This is our land, it whispered,
and we would whoop in approval,
as if only we existed. We owned the world.

Originally published in R2: The Rice Review.

Published by Christy Leos

Hi! I’m Christy Leos – Writer, Editor, and Author with a background in English Literature, social media, digital content creation, and access to justice work for marginalized communities. 📌When I write, I am the best version of myself; I am a storyteller.📌 📣 Work featured on LatinaMedia.Co, ABC13, Southern Laced, and InspirationalBlogs.com. With a liberal arts degree in English Language and Literature from Rice University, I’m grateful I’ve been given “the chance to work hard at work worth doing.”

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