They are old now

the oldest I have ever seen them

saying hello

saying goodbye eight days later

for the first time in seven years.

It’s a long way through Texas

longer than it’s ever been

longer than it was a week ago

but I know not as long as it will be

till I get back to see her

struggling in her chair to stay awake

and talk about the nothings of her days

to hear him tell his stories over and over

and after 40 years still watch him get excited

in recounting them.

It’s a long way through Texas

leaving my baby girl

and her baby boy behind. 

They’re both gonna grow so fast together

like young ones with young ones do.

It’s a long way till I get back to them.

East county green fades in my rear view mirror

and I’m leaving little pieces of myself

in old quilt tops out in the barn

overgrown now

no cows to keep things tidy 

in the far field

where I caught her smiling once

just for the sake of smiling

on the back porch

where I first heard my own yodel’s echo

in a little house by the lake

in cedar trees

in pecan picking

in catfishing

in staying up late to wait for the storms

in getting up early

to milk things and feed things

in persimmon puckered cow kisses

and midnight trips to the wal-mart

in two old people

who love me the best they can

and two young people

who need me to make this trip again and again.  

It’s a long way through Texas. 

It gets longer every time I leave.

June 2006