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.

Author: Blind John Ellsworth

Blind John Ellsworth (1960- ), a (questionable) poet and sometimes Texas bluesman. He has recorded one spoken-word album (thankfully unreleased), since he is still trying to learn to play guitar. (Lack of musical skills is what makes him a poet and not a lyricist. Plus, he can’t write music.) View all posts by Blind John Ellsworth