By María de la Luz Martínez

I live Hill Country.
I float on clear rivers, passing majestic, bowing trees.
I peer below watery depths at swaying fronds that wave and tease.

I breathe Hill Country,
A peaceful haven, a quiet retreat.
If I live again, I’ll surely want a sweet repeat.

I am Hill Country,
Strong like an oak reaching toward the sky;
Alive with all that surrounds me––it makes my whole being sigh.