Posted in Poetry

Mesquite Bend: Founding


30 days poetry

What They Know

These tough trees grow like weeds,
dotting the world in all directions
like gnarled, black claws.

When the dust blew like oxygen,
painting its sandy fingerprints
deep into the knuckles of the farmers

who worked the land here,
the mesquite’s pickled branches
set on shelves laid bare

of all else edible.  Mesquite digs
itself into the dirt, holding on
like death.  Those who call

these plains home know
the need to cling, to plow
even when your blood

mingles with the dirt.  This town
sprang up among these trees,
its gnarly fingers gripping,

ever gripping, a world
that flies by them
like no trees are rooted here.

Ramona Levacy
April 25, 2015

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Author:

I am a 40-something Texan with a feisty cat and a supportive husband of 20 years. With a Master's degree in English with an emphasis on creative writing, I have taught creative writing at Texas Tech, won awards for my writing and been blessed to be mentored by Horn Professor and poet Dr. Walt McDonald. I earn a living by helping my husband's family run a health food store, but my avocation is writing. I hope you enjoy reading about some of my triumphs and tragedies as I continue to work on figuring out what life is all about and on growing my ability to share my writing. May your own journey be a blessed one.

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