Another morning
on top of the dirt —
always a good sign
Air warm, heavy with moisture
Payne’s gray clouds hold the light
a thin yellow ochre wash
reflecting the city below
Clouds moving low from the south
hinting at rain
Colors fading
Sounds rising
A bark in the distance
A rooster announcing the day
A neighbor turning over his pickup
Joining the slow pull of labor
A faint toot from the UPRR
The steady buzz of commuter bees on I-10
Seeking the golden honey of commerce
Broken now and then
The deeper pitch of heavy haulers
And Raven—always Raven—
Meowing: pick me up
I need your love
— or maybe you need mine
Then from above —
the morning Southwest out of San Antone
tearing the sky open
And I hear it
Deep within my heart lies a melody…
When in dreams I meet a memory
My Rose of San Antone…
It passes
Silence settles back in
almost
A faint fiddle
not so distant now
And the words return—
As I think of the past and all the pleasures we had
As I watch the mating of the dove
It was in the springtime you said goodbye
I remember our faded love...
The chords linger
Maybe they where never there at all
© J. Michael Boland 1 Apr 2026. Contributions by Bob Wills
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