PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Above his nightstand, chest-of-drawers and tables stood his collection, I don’t know how he made it, I’ve never asked if any one of them were gifts, though I do know that the cows and horses figures made my grandfather’s room a creepy place to be in. Facing each other right in the eye they appeared to be settled on stage, horses battling against each other, varied species of cows attempting to be a herd, all of them stood in their place, all of them knew where to stand. Indeed, my grandfather was a farmer and a very dedicated one, his happiness was called work and he loved being happy. I barely saw him as a kid, though what I loved about going to his house was that magic 3 second moment when the door opened and a glimpse of the mystery room was revealed. We were not allowed to touch his enigmatic 30-40 cm figures, there was something mysterious about them, and they still are. Drug issues took control of Mexico, supplying the rich affecting us all. He no longer lives in his house at Matamoros Coahuila, he now lives at my house and the mysterious room is gone. Even though he was extremely passionate about his work, he had to resign, said good-bye to his cows and horses, waved a kiss to his fields and lovers, packed his sombrero and came by. My home, is his house now, he finds happiness on history books and even though he cannot be near his farm, he asks everyday about his cows.