Dear, Texas

You open your fields
So graciously to accept my trembling
Feet eager to find any potential home. 

You’ve enveloped me in rusty haze and dust
Capable of inducing such a silent and isolated
Slumber. 

Protecting me from the outside world. 
Clueless to all the things that are falling apart.
Small towns and junctions connect the biggest cities. 

Distance doesn’t matter here. 
Highways are time portals, 
1920-2017 in an hour and a half. 

You are showing off your OK waters that are
Blue in the sun and brown in the shade. 
Not trying to be anything that you’re not. 

Those sunrises over the bay and those mysterious
Rain showers that leave trails through this crumbling city. 
Have we mistaken this place as not having a culture? 
Or is it everywhere else that has conformed? 

I have rejected your invitation to mold myself into the hills and
To dry out in the sand. 
You’re fed up with me

I’m a permanent visitor wherever I go.

 

Corpus Christi, TX