Dec 24, 2009 19:49
Never as conceited as when
I can't stop staring
at a photo of my grandparents
in their 20's. My God
I descend from movie stars.
Why wasn't it filmed? Every bounce
of her pale-blonde curls
when the two of them danced
to the tremor of trumpets and snare.
Just two hearts under the stars
that were dead then, and are still
dead now. But they gave me a father,
they made me this home.
Never as native as when
I take in the drive
from county to county. My God
there is no place as laid open
or as beautiful as Texas.
The sky is bigger, your whole
perception is an enormous half circle
and dirt only makes up the bottom line.
The rest is an atmosphere rare
to find in human lungs, it waits
for someone's next breath
or a thunderstorm rolling through
with nothing, no reason to stop.
Dust devils of soil and dead
corn husks spin less like tires
of a pickup heading into the city.
More like pinwheels letting
the wind propel them
just to be moved.