Seco Creek

It’s almost always dusty,
Until the day you nearly drown.
And you’re going to lose your fences
When the Seco Creek comes down.

A dry creek bed is empty,
A failure at its task.
But when its name means “Dry”,
Water may be too much to ask.

Yet, the Seco Creek was running
On the night great-grandpa died.
Mourners rode through Sabinal
To come say their good-byes.

It’s almost always dusty,
Until the day you nearly drown.
And you’re going to lose your fences
When the Seco Creek comes down.

When the rains had finally finished
And the water levels sank
A car still needed horses,
Just to get across the bank.

There are fossils in the Seco,
Another ages’ souvenirs.
So there’s always been dry water,
It’s been flooding here for years.

It’s almost always dusty,
Until the day you nearly drown.
And you’re going to lose your fences
When the Seco Creek comes down.

The Crossing

A long time ago,
My grandfather left Ireland.
He traveled to London,
And then, to America.

It was time to leave his home
For a better home somewhere else.
Joining crowds of immigrants
In a melting pot abroad.

I should thank my grandfather
For deciding to leave Ireland.
If he had not made that choice,
I would be an Irish farmer today,
Except my parents would never have met.

Now, I retrace his route
On board the Norwegian Breakaway.
We sailed from London for New York.
Seven days at sea to the New World.

I don’t think he was in a mini-suite.
He may not have had 24-hour room service.
However, other than that,
We’re historically accurate.

Welcome to America, Grandpa.

Preservation

At home, it seems that
We move our old things to museums.
Then, we can reuse the space for malls.
You can never have enough malls.

In some places (like England),
They move ancient things to museums, but
Their old things are just used.
They are preserved, not for history,
But because they still work.

Castles, for instance.
Cathedrals, where the religion may change,
But the church still stands.
Pubs, too.

Manifest Destiny caused Planned Obsolescence.
If you’re going to go West (young man) anyway,
Your stuff doesn’t have to last quite as long.

It’s sad that we build things we know won’t last.
Everything would be higher quality if we expected
Generations of descendants to use them, as well.

Next time you build a house, try this.
Think “My great-grandchildren will live here.”
Think “People will visit here in 300 years.”
(Thinking “I need a wall to keep the French out” is optional.)