Jeffrey Hull
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Bluebonnets
My clan had New World roots two hundred years
Before a nation rose upon that land
That lay so tempting on the west frontiers
Beyond Sabine and north from Rio Grande.
One hundred thirty more would pass before
The fates would lead us west to stake small claim
To mythic lands and legends bought by war,
With tales of Bowie's death and Houston's fame.
But now those open plains and dusty hills
Are crossed with concrete, cables and such signs
As dreary uniformity instills
In everything that modern life defines —
But every spring the azure lupins dance
Rekindling then that Texas-style romance.
© 2005 Jeffrey Hull