The Rio Grande Valley
Restless clouds in the valley sky,
move northwest almost every day.
And in the blue, Peregrins fly
above palm trees that gently sway.
Giant live oaks with spanish moss,
sing their eternal whispering song,
and in the shade there is repose,
for old and young, for weak or strong.
McCook is full of cotton fields,
that gently stretch out, for endless miles,
they run forever over rolling hills,
brilliant white blankets, gleam all the while.
Far to the east, the Gulf of Mexico does loom,
with shrimp boats departing in the night.
shining their blue beams into the gloom,
to welcome the early morning light.
In spring the orange blossoms scent,
perfumes the humid valley air.
From February until they are spent,
sending humble honey bees to and from their lair.
I love my Rio Grande Valley home,
from the Starr county hills, down to the sea.
You find you lose the tendency to roam,
Once you are one with your destiny.
5/15/10 29 palms ca.
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Comments about this poem (The Rio Grande Valley by Juan Olivarez )
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