Category: Ancestry

Tobacco Leaves

Tobacco Leaves​
​
the afternoon light filters through lattice ​
windows with capiz shell inserts,​
casts a warm pearlescent glow ​
upon the wooden floor—
​
dried tobacco leaves
on the dining table
fill the air with scents of hay,​
a leathery spice,​
a pungent chocolate—
​
my grandfather’s hands​
shape a leaf ​
between his knotted fingers,​
press against the Molave wood ​
as the pendulum clock chimes​
at the half hour
​
the soft patter of abaca slippers,​
the rush of a silken skirt, ​
my grandmother’s footsteps ​
draw near—​
​
the sound of bare feet ​
creaking the old wooden floor ​
follows,​
calloused brown hands carry​
steaming coconut rice cakes​
on banana leaves—​
​
merienda.​
​
​
—D. G. Vachal​ ©2026

China Blue


Some poems come back to us differently over time. China Blue began in memory and longing, but also carries quieter inheritances—of Spain, of family, and of journeys that stretch farther back than I once understood. When my father brought his children and grandchildren to Spain, it felt less like travel than return. And somewhere behind the blue of memory lingers an older story still.


China Blue

China blue in my veins
throbs
with Valencia orange groves
sways
with weeping willows
beside the bamboo-lined
waters—

El Greco blue
lines my heart-valves
pulsates
with nightingale songs
dances
with crimson chrysanthemums
under the autumn sun—

Where the sun rises
I greet the dwindling sunset
speak the dialect
of disparate vernaculars—

China blue in my veins
and the orange groves.

D. G. Vachal ©2025