there was nothing there.
dense woods with stickers and thorn vines.
sharp, dead sticks everywhere.
tall trees, thin and thick.
sky was way up, but bright enough.
like a huge skylight in a theater of brush.
brother had backpacks of stripped golf balls.
he worked on the lawn crew at the club.
from our own backyard driving range.
we hit them all at the future parkway.
just a nice little neighborhood in the western mckinney hills.
first instinct was to grab our shotguns.
see what was around.
we grew up with creeks and dirt, and nature all around.
tried the sandy, windy west for a year or so.
but west texas is only good for driving through and short visits.
to me anyway.
people are old and nice.
in a hee haw kind of way.
oh well, there's no trees. oh well.
but, there are oasises all around.
the bridge was first, then a back way to the highway.
like our very own back road.
jeep rides up fresh earth mountains in the construction zone.
then mile by mile, year by year.
all the way past the tollway and past that too.
it is six lanes now.
businesses are named after it.
high schools and middle schools are everywhere.
libraries and drug stores, various facilities and a water tower.
to the hunter s. thompson soundroom in frisco.
where the spacefolk was developed.
where nantucket time never stops.
on the mother road.
the other way, east from here.
there is a brewery and an airport that can land a jet.
a golf course in the wilson creek bottoms.
through the industrial district.
we are far out.
look both ways honeys.
watch the the light.
pay attention to the traffic all around.
anything can happen here.
your dreams can come true.
decide the future and go.
take the the city of gold road.
you can always take it back.