We’ll have to get you
Texas boots and a cowboy hat,’
said my new publisher.
(He meant for me to pay.)
‘I don’t think so.’
(Maybe that, right then, was where
our relationship went wrong.)
When I got to Texas, I began to see
why I might want them,
falling quickly in love
with all of Texas
(except him, but it’s all right —
he wasn’t a native.
In mutual dislike by then,
we arranged never to meet.)
The day came when a friend
guessing my size, bestowed
a pair of Texas boots.
‘You can’t go home without them.’
With two extra pairs of socks
I made them almost fit.
(It was I who bought my own
white straw cowboy hat.)
Sometimes I wear those boots.
They look very dashing,
but they either slop or pinch.
I don’t know what became of the hat,
though I wore it home on the plane.
It looked peculiar here.
(By the same token, a dinkum Akubra
would have looked wrong there.)
But up in Lamesa, West Texas,
across from the festival venue,
there was a garage sale.
I found a pair of thick SWAT boots.
‘Try them on,’ said Thom,
so I did. A perfect fit!
When (rarely) it’s cold here, I put them on
and (fond, nostalgic) I remember Texas.
Inspired by a prompt at dVerse
Some of these poems are autobiographical, some are entirely fictional, and some are a mixture of both. The intention is art rather than self-expression. I don't allow factual details to get in the way of poetry! (I do seek emotional truth.) They are works in progress, and may be subject to revision without notice. Completed versions appear in my books. Nevertheless copyright applies to all texts found here. Copyright also applies to almost all photos posted here, though a few are licensed under Creative Commons.
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