Waking up to the first snow we’ve seen in years,
We take a walk among the undulating hills
Overlooking Phoenix Lake, spreading out
Like a jagged silver star below,
Enjoying the soft crunch of snow underfoot,
Looking at pine branches cradling precious snow.
We touch the snow-dusted fruits of the manzanita,
Taste the tangy berries that look so similar
To the salty txiv faubtxhib we ate on the humid hills
Of far Laos. We wonder:
How does one compare the fruits
Of two such different lands?