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 Posting for The Sunday Muse #179.



History floods up to the highway; cow pastures, empty towns.
We skim them all. The turnoff that takes us deeper rises
from a wave of asphalt that bends and crests and races to Austin.

Dad reminds us again that we need to be careful. Pay attention.
If the snakes or floorboards twist, run to the car.
His brother is meeting us there, maybe. Other family might also.

We launch ourselves into the dead leaves of the front lawn,
waving at our uncle. Yelling away the highway.
There are no other family members here, no other houses.

A key is passed between brothers. Porch boards tested.
We're told to stay in the yard.
They don't want us to see old pipes leaking new stains.

Greetings and salutations! Fall is running a teaser weekend here in Texas and we're all appreciating the outdoors rendered livable. And the early morning hummingbirds! I'm daydreaming about a small platform tent and napping outside and James is counting the days until he can get out and chop the wisteria back into manageable form (it's our entire front yard...too bad it can't be trained into a living yurt...except for bees. Bees probably don't make good roommates.) and the dogs are just happy to be here. As dogs are. Next weekend is October!!!!! 



Hope you're having a good week and the words are friendly, inquisitive, and present. 

-- Chrissa

Comments

  1. There is a back story lurking under that pile of leaves. Love the poem … notes too, especially the living yurt!

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  2. This reminded me of a friend of mine. She and her 6 siblings were invited to gether at the site of their family home before the area was flooded for a newly built reservoir. Great nostalgic write, Chrissa!

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  3. Every house has a story to tell. You brought forth the feelings to perfection, Chrissa.

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  4. This poem holds a history that is rich, and that last stanza is absolutely wonderful my friend! Yes this weather is glorious isn't it? Have a wonderful weekend Chrissa!

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  5. You have wisteria, which has such a lovely scent! I loved the poem, and love, too, that fall is here. My fave season.

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  6. Your opening line floods us with the history that follows. Snakes and floorboards and families can all twist like rivers and a what a house might or might not speak to children.

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  7. A nice write, Chrissa. My mom would say "to stay in the yard" because the Gypsies were around. I am sure now that here were not nearly as she warned about. Mrs. Jim likes wisteria, I am not sure I know it. I have been told that the mud dobbers do not sting. We have a lot of those right now.
    ..

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  8. "History floods up to the highway; cow pastures, empty towns.
    We skim them all. The turnoff that takes us deeper"

    that's a great opening, painted a vivid picture. i enjoyed this very much

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  9. Dogs are hap as long as they're with their beloved pet humans!

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  10. Nice one Chrissa; luv how the kids yell away the highway
    Good Sunday

    much❤love

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  11. Love how you summon up such a rich picture. 'History floods up to the highway' - a great line.

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  12. Great opening line, and you really convey that sense of childhood well here, along with the spirits of family and place. It reminds me of the first house I lived in in Oklahoma, a million miles from everywhere(including my job) and its own kingdom of snakes and waving grass. Fall is trying so hard to walk through the door here too--I'm more than ready.

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  13. "If the snakes or floorboards twist, run to the car." sounds like very good advice in the TX rural areas.

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  14. I love the fall and I love your poem. It gives me the feeling of nostalgia and happy memories.

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