She sang Pistol Packing Mama
over our cribs,
and Home on the Range.
A mother’s voice
wandering in the drybeds
of dust, rock, burr.
We lived in the next breath of desert,
the refrain of yucca and sage,
waiting for a lullaby of rain.
For dVerse Quadrille
qbit 
HEAVENS, do I ever love this:
“a refrain of yucca and sage,
waiting for a lullaby of rain.”
Wonderful creative license employed here. And a simply gorgeous piece.
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Thanks. I was about to give up, then Barbara and I were yukking it up she sent me a cowboy song that made all the pieces that I’d been struggling with come together.
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Sometimes that’s what it takes. I really like this.
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This explains so much…. Well done. Yukking up yucca worked for you!
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I like that lullaby of rain ending.
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Thanks!
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While the title is the dV title, it sounds like an echo of Route 66; intentional? Cool either way. Like your use of the word ‘rock’ in Stanza 2 because it pulls back to the cribs in Stanza 1.
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Ah, no, I didn’t see either of those. Thanks for pointing them out.
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You make something specific and personal feel like I’ve experienced it. Really excellent, in my book!
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Thanks!!
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That final stanza is perfection…nothing yucky about it, just yucca-lovely.
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So concise in expressing a time, a place, a character, and a mother-child interaction. The last stanza sparkles with all the musical references.
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