Carol P. Smith


Poetry (Close to my Heart) $10
Short Story Collection (Inside Out) $13
Biography (Journey to  Command) SB $17 HB $27

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What can I say about the night?  Has it all been said?
No, the night is over all, in all and everywhere,
It is black velvet, sprinkled with star
And trimmed with moon streaks.

The black of night smooths the sharp edges
And hard corners of west Texas,
The land becomes lustrous, and lush growth
Hugs close to the warm sands.

Crooked, sparsely green trees – become full
And sway in the Texas wind…
All things become mysterious and full blown
In the magic of a Texas night.

I skim along the landscapes, searching with my eyes,
For the night birds that call…. “whislaw, whislaw…”
Even the sound of the night birds becomes melodious
In the depth of the darkest night.

Wake up… now it is time for the sun to wipe away the dreams,
Early morning sun is pinkish, and sweet,
But then the wind — that was friendly in the night,
Becomes a roar, and my hair strains to hold onto my head.

The mid-day sun beats with a merciless drum sound
Against the hard, dried ground,
The lush growth is changed.  It looks like needles
Reaching up to pierce the sky –

But there is no cloud to pierce, and the needles wave
And are reckless in the howling wind.
Blow wind… blow.   Maybe a rebellious cloud
Will leave its corner, maybe it will be full of water.

Did you ever feel drops of rain, and not see a cloud in the sky?
If you have, you probably were in Texas,
And a small renegade cloud got tangled in mesquite brush.
And dropped a tiny bit of moisture… but not much.

I am going to stand right here, right on this spot,
Where the wind will whip my hair into a mess of straw,
And my shirt will dry against my back – from the few drops of rain,
And while I am very still… the sky will turn shades of pink…

And orange – shot with blue.  And the sun will sink slowly
Until only the pink and orange are left
To shine against the darkening sky – welcoming…
Welcoming a delicious Texas night full of stars.