Three Reflections on the Last of June in Rockport, Texas

Windswept Live Oaks 2

Windswept live oaks in Rockport, Texas

From the graciousness of a good friend, my family and I will have the opportunity to enjoy the charm of the sleepy coastal town of Rockport, Texas later this week.  His family and one other will be joining ours, where we’ll put ourselves to pleasant task of acclimating ourselves to a coastal living, however brief it is.  

This is not my first go-around in Rockport.  I’ve gone duck hunting there a couple of times with my friend.  We also took this same trip with each other’s families several years ago.

Below is a poetic reflection from that last trip.  Maybe the Muse will be afoot for this next one.


Three Reflections on Last of June In Rockport, Texas


The canal’s placid waters

awake and ripple, from a perch’s

brief entry into

the airy world.

Just above

the top’s of live oaks

a sparrow and dragonfly

pirouette in a primal

dance for survival.

Leaning upon me,

my son queries into the familial

relations of a threesome of ducks,

as girls cast their bread

upon waters,

the seagulls thronging,

crying and hovering,

with a nearness that is holy.



See the live oaks,

see their canopies,

windswept like the

waving tresses of a girl?

Their unique shape

is a tangible memory

of the shaping wind

of this place.



The storm moved

through last night

speaking in the

rumbling of thunder

and the pattering of rainfall.

Now early morning,

a light drizzle

creates ripples

upon the water’s surface

like innumerable galaxies

expanding and dying.

From the evening’s storm

the earth is fragrant made,

the air, cool and moist,

enlivened with birdsong.



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