There's a place for me
in a field of Bluebonnets
under a Pecan Tree, with
Texas Longhorn lowing
to passerbys,
and mockingbirds flitting
about cloudless, grand skies.

I'm a lamb-- with the eyes of a lion,
A bull-- with the heart of a dove;
A Tyger; with the hooves of a poet.
I am a stag-- with the antlers of a Texas Longhorn.

I am blessed with the sight of a dinosaur; But the vision of a dragon.
I am the wind, I fell trees;
I caress cheeks.

I come like a lover’s memory.
I go like sorrow--may it never run its fingers down your spine,
As it has mine.

Smile, I want You to know:
We can fly with my wings of a falcon,
Can pierce the silence of the night with my Eagle's cry.

So Know me
Know me like an echo knows the distant mountains.
And Remember me.
Remember me like the golden grass remembers the wind.

Take me to those places where I first learned that I could love. In school yards, and in churches, car rides, Longhorn's, and smoky music clubs. These places feel so empty now that we're telephone lines apart and I'm alone.

Take me to those places where I first learned I could hurt. Phone calls on my bed, the last of car rides on the road. The street where we last embraced before I left and headed home. These places feel so empty now that we're telephone lines apart and I'm alone.

Take me to those places that I first learned I had hope. On couches watching movies and those places I wrote poems. In Rome, where we saw zebras. And that mountain path we got lost upon. These places feel so empty now that we're telephone lines apart and I'm alone.

Take me to those places that I had happiness. All those places in time that we had shared before you left. And when you come back, we would share some more time in places I won't regret. But then those places will feel empty when we're telephone lines apart and I'm alone again.

We used to have a larger group
Ten thousand head at best
Once we had the largest herd
Of Longhorn in the west

But, times got tough, we sold a few
There was the drought back in '11
I didn't know it got so bad
But, now....we're down to seven

Yep, seven steers and cows and calfs
Out standing in our field
There's not a lot of meat out there
It's really a poor yield

The Longhorns down in Texas
Took our football tickets back
They said that our best looking cow
Was like a blanket on a rack

We've done our best to make amends
We'll be on top once more, I'm sure
But, we have to keep the calfs all fed
Or else ....we're down to four

There's lots of land for them to graze
They'll grow big, I am assured
But, now I find it difficult
To call seven head...a herd

I like the different months
How each one brings new experiences
And holds the birth of those
That mean the most to me

Like January
Bringing in a new year
And a fresh start
Just as my father taught me
Out with the old, in with the new

And February
How it reminds us of love
Filling our hearts with joy
Just as my best friend
Does for me daily

Along comes March
Oh, **** and brilliant March
The start of a new season
Just like she sparked something new
Inside of me

Followed by April
Bright and colorful April
Showers water the flowers
Just like my soul sister and I
Relish in fun times together

Next is May
Shiny and strong like the sun
Marks the beginning of summer
My brother and I kayak
And bond in the deep heat of Texas

After May is June
Marking the longest daylight hours
Of the whole year
My mother is a June baby
And she is my light in the dark, my pearl

Scorching July rolls through
Fast paced and chaotic
The peak of summer
I recall Camp Longhorn
And all the girls I got to enjoy it with

Autumn begins with bold August
School commences
New opportunities arise
Who better to experience them with
Than my favorite twins

September arrives
Wake me up when it ends
This month reminds me of how
I no longer have my best friend
Once always older than me
Now it is I who takes the lead

October brings orange and deep reds
Soothing hot tea and cuddles
Almost as soothing as both my grandparents
My true greatest examples
Of what it's like to be a warrior

Thankful for November
The time to reflect over the year
Thankful for being alive
Thankful for all who was ever born
And blessed my life

And last but not least
December
Oh what a weird time
Since the birthday celebrated this month
Is mine

I like a tough steak at a regular steak house
(I'm one of those people that doesn't have to have everything tender)
Filet Mignon the spaced out king
pricey Prime Rib
a juicy T-Bone
steak kabobs
a decent well-done steak sandwich,
the non-fatty round steak that
mother used to make
a real rare piece of steak
a cooked by me steak at a
real nice steak house
where the gimmick is cook your own
except for their steak kabob
same with Mister Steak,
that and Outback Steak House in general
Longhorn's will do for something like that!

Tucumcari

Route 66 was lonely
Except for the two of us
We stopped and took some photos
If we ever make a CD
One of those photos will be on the cover of it
A bumpy road in the middle of nowhere
turned the red car brown
It was veterans day
And the romantic desert sunset
was interrupted by the wild turkey
We talked to it
It responded
We laughed
Back at the cow camp
we put longhorn burgers on the grill
Except for the sparks from the fire
it was completely silent
I've never felt such peace before
I've never seen such a black sky before
Despite the warning signs of diamondback rattlesnakes
I slept like a baby
And when I woke up
I caught the most beautiful sunrise I've ever seen
And once again
It was interrupted by
the Wild Turkey

Gobble, gobble

To lay my head upon the tawny cover of softwood pines once more
as I pry the manifest question of youthful travail and insecurity ,
to garner the earthen tier beside natures vested , rippling waters ..
Churning runnels lending delicate directions , whirlpool portrayals that countersink their matriarchal beginnings , only to gradually disappear ....
To wander the carpeted trail with arbitrary resolve , free of pious
intimidations .. Fixated with superb creativity  .. With the eyes of an eagle .. Determined . Pithiest .. Invincible ..
As heat obscures the blacktop ahead , the shade of home is but a dot in the humid distance , tar laced Georgia roads in the month of August are quite dangerous to young , bare feet ...
Sorghum fields , hog wire boundaries , darkening skies ..The unbounded Sun dragging each step , briar patches line the road shoulder , painful reminders of lonely boots foolishly left unkept ...
Fire ant mounds hide in tall grass , Cow Killers forage alone in Summer swelter , brown scorpions , cottonmouths and the list goes on virtually
forever during Dog Days , legends of wounds refusing to heal , double headed rattlers and rabid foxes , Longhorn bulls turning wild , growing bloodthirsty , hunting down unwary farm hands .. Men turned lunatic
from tainted moonshine , waiting at the wood line for clumsy boys and girls , well water made septic from lack of rain .. Bobcats running in packs for any food easily obtained , including boys that refused to listen
to mother , leaving their cowboy boots when warned not to do so ... This will be the last time I'm caught barefooted , all alone , left to my own wit and minds reserve , Mom and Dad can be sure of it !

Along Peachstone Shoals
Morgan horses have seized the first light -
of the spring morning
Wild Turkeys call in unison , scratch -
hurriedly along wild rose , bramble berry -
camouflage
A stoic Whitetail Buck crosses the shallows ,
disappears into hardwood spring shelter
Fog steadily burns along the holler as red winged -
blackbirds gather for the noon feast o'er purple clover
passageways , tinted with silver-gray ballooning -
spiderlings , moistened by the warm breath of the -
promising new day harvest
Farm tractors scurry county roads in route to -
awaiting plowland , Longhorn cattle vie for the sunny
hillside ..

Recall the training days of April with
juvenile curiosity , myriad painted butterflies
sailing golden-green opportunity
Wisteria , honeysuckle fencerow borders ,
Young Cottontails darting to an fro over
flowered , broom sage cover
Honey and nectar filled the air , Quarter
Horses worked the stair step valleys on
dew covered morns , Longhorn cattle
called home by the tolling farm bell ,
Rhode Island Reds foraged the fresh turned
farrows , sunbeams emblazoned woodland narrows

Let's say we just keep aiming straight
and lay more rubber on the backroad radius
of tarry black top Texas like two interstate
eight ***** rolling for free range
Take me to where the quail coo through
the straw with your wolf paw on my knee
Past the wooden western dispatch
poles and water tower stands
Past the tin roofed ranches through longhorn land
I wanna follow the fence row route to nowhere
up ahead and sleep under the stars
throw sticks into a vagabond fire till we're tired
of another country crock detour and wayside diner
Don't say no, let's just go

Written by Sara Fielder © July 2015

The Drunk Driver

The moon shone so bright that night,
Casting the world in a pale blue light,
I was walking home pondering my life,
Dreaming about one day making a good wife,

The world is full of new possibilities for me,
So many things to do and places to see,
14 years old top student always did my chores,
I want to see the world walk along many beautiful shores,

Walking home through our quiet small town,
My life just beginning nothing can get me down,
There is so much potential so much life for me yet,
My life is so full at the beginning of the path I would set,

Walking home along the dark and short highway,
It was getting late at my friends i didnt want to stay,
Only the moon in the sky shinning light,
On what happened to me that fateful night,

Walking along i see the car coming fast,
It was over in a second no fear to last,
How could this happen why couldnt he see,
I had a refletor on my back pack. Why did he hit me?,

I am dead as dead as one person possibley could be,
It will be a bit before anyone finds the dead me,
He didn’t stop the car. Why didn’t he care,
How can this one person be so selfish so unfair,

My spirit soars high into the dark windless night,
Full of grief for a full life lost lost under the pale moon light,
Angry confused i need to know why as my spirit follows the car,
I watch as pull is car up in front of Longhorn the only local bar,

He staggers out of the car so drunk completly unaware,
He stupidity took my future and he just really didn’t care,
He looks at the car he knows he hit something I doubt he know its me,
He is so drunk he passed out took the life I was ment to see

He is known in this bar even i regonize him as he orders a whisky shot,
Frank the bartender know he is the town drunk he drinks alot,
He trips on his feet and laughs heartily as he almost falls down,
He is a drunk and i hate him acting like a drunken clown,
He looks at  Frank he says “On my way here I hit a big animal probably a dear,"
As he asks Frank to get him his shot and add on a beer,
Frank says angirly  “You stupid drunk you better not have drove here,”
“So what if i did.” He mumbles confirming Franks growing fear,
I try to shout at him tell him what he already know he has to do,
Its like he looks right at my sprit and in that instant he knew,

“Where did you hit her,” he demands as he smashed his beer,
He says with a chuckle “Hey frank i never said it was femlale dear,
“Just tell me where it was and hope to god my gut feeling isnt right,
If it is ill make sure that I ruin your life you will never forget this night,”
He can barley hold his head up  he mumbles to where he hit me,
Frank prays he is wrong but his instinct tells him what he is going to see,

He goes outside looks at the damage that my body did to the car,
He tells his wife his has to go out that she is in charge of the bar,
I follow him back to my broken body he knew all along it was me,
He knew i should have had a future his sadness for the loss plain to see,

Small town living he know how to reach my famly and my best friiend,
He calls  911 even though he knows i have already met a tragic end,
I watch as those closet to me feel an itense grief full of heavy emitional pain,
The tears leaving streaks on thier faces as they fall steady like rain,

The town drunk tried to run he snuck out into the pale moon light,
He went unpunished never seen in town again after that tragic night,
My family will never be the same missing me every single day,
Always wondering what could have been if my life wasn't cut short this way,
At only 14 my life ended needlessly snuffed out by a drunk driver,
Like many other victims of alcohol I wasn’t one of the suvivors.

Copyright 2019
Written by Chelsea Gravelle

I could have trailed on the Skimmerhorn with the Longhorn or fought with the best at the battle of the Bighorn but wasn't born at the right time, perhaps this is the wrong time to complain.

Another year will soon tip its hat and that as they say will be that.

2021.
Seems like we've been fighting inertia,
as if there's nothing out to get you
but this year has only set you
up for the ****.

Two circles, two triangles locked in against a rail
exist as geometries of mobility in immobility,
movement stuck in a silence never intended.

The front wheel swings in the direction of desire,
forward progress the only direction it knows.
Yet, it seems impossible that it stays upright.

Without a kick stand it falls easily into the dust.
Without a peddler executing a delicate balance
it wobbles aimlessly, an unguided wild thing.
  
Four wheelers, existing in a heaviness
that can’t be toppled over, cough gray
exhaust smoke on its fragile wheels.

It would fly if it could flap, if it had wings
but it can only roll and roll and roll,
its rider keeping enough speed for a breeze.

Only the rider ponders that they can’t fly.
the machine only knows its movement.
Color is their expression, not of itself

Pink wheels, a red crank and grips
adorned with blue streamers await
the daughter in elementary school.

Handlebars like a longhorn’s skull,
black wheels and a leather toe clip-
the boy who lives to pop wheelie’s.

Gold resting on solid yellow wheels,
an elongated seat in cheetah print-
a speedy courier dodging traffic.

Gray on a sensible, sturdy frame,
a black padded seat, a frame basket
in front- a matron grocery shopping.

All wait for the lock to unclick,
be wrapped under the seat, the
rider to turn it around and move.

He was lost in the second verse when a hand settled softly on his chest. & if he knew then what he knows now, he’d see it not as gentle. Not as sweet.

He would’ve leapt from the sill of his second-story window if only to feel less perishable.

He’d mind the gap when boarding the train. Calmly staring out the window at the syrup sunset & a longhorn-shaped hole. A matador, too slow.

But it was the love J didn’t feel when holding him that sent him screaming down the street. It wasn’t serene. It was wet with love-deth.

&
d e a f e n i n g .

The chorus hit like an ice pick when the white car pulled up to drag his body away. The berbere dream euthanized and preserved in a jar. On display for strangers to gawk.