Pulled Curly’s Rune
At first, years ago
when I was a green carrot,
Texans were, it seemed,
wonderful; charming, friendly,
funny-talking folk in spurs
and special wide brim hats,
and mess on their boots;
mysterious, clever, dashing,
men, woman, and children;
lovers of prickly flora
and less flattering fauna; frank
but short of blunt, somber souls.
For forty years I lived among ‘em,
counted myself one,
raised three more,
befriended many, tolerated more;
a citizen with resident rights,
I’ve noticed fewer hold that mythical
lost in a dangerous land,
Houston in New York.
Look both ways when we pine for the past.
Enjoy the stories and the myths, but mind the gaps where rattlers sleep.
Why Houston in New York?
City Slickers movie slice. My point.