Texas Poetry Magazine –

"Dancehall Easter" by Christine Crawford

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Title image shows a tall stalk with yellow flowers in the foreground, desert landscape and mountain in the background.

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Published September 15th, 2024

Dancehall Easter

by Christine Crawford

Cowhide-tough yet tender (a walking contradiction)
A hero and a mean drunk, both a cowboy and a con
Weather-worn by whiskey yet decorated with distinction
He was a man well-liked by everyone but difficult to love

He wore a straw hat and suspenders over his chambray shirt and wranglers
How she loved to trace the laugh lines around his denim eyes
He had an apron that said, I don't cook... unless the dog is hungry,
and had a one-eyed cat named Levi that lived under his porch

That Saturday, he traded in his buttermilk and cornbread
for some Beechnut chew and Lonestar as they headed to the dance
He palmed her hands to balance her right there atop his redwings
and with the steel guitar cryin', they glided 'cross the floor

She was Pancho, he was Lefty, and with the sawdust smooth beneath them
he waltzed her across Texas (She sang Willie, he sang Merle)
And while he swigged down his whiskey, she gobbled up the music
Both of them just drunk as skunks on the things that set 'em free

The fiddle rang clear through the night, and the mountains rose around them
They filled that ghost town full of life while the starry sky smiled down
Hello Walls and Ring of Fire, and Ramblin' Man and Crazy
they honky-tonked the night away to all their favorite songs

They crooned lovin' songs by Waylon and sang cheatin' songs by Sonny
and he yelled, Walk-it, JJ, walk it! when that guitar solo twanged
And when the drinking turned him nasty, and the music lulled her sleepy
they both slept it off to Johnny's Sunday Morning Comin' Down

Easter dawned a desert and left him wincing in the sunlight
while she hunted eggs and pennies in the scrub behind the hall
He'd hung cotton balls in cactus and convinced her that they came from
that fabled bunny's tail (she believed most all he said)

With her basket and her heart full, she beamed up at her Po-Po
that honky-tonkin' hero, both a swindler and a saint
And love, to her, will always be the hue of faded denim
and a dancehall in Terlingua, underneath the Texas sky


About the Poet
Christine Crawford resides in Kerrville, Texas, United States.
Read the poet's biography on Christine Crawford's Artist Page.

This poem is included in Poetry World #10, published in the Wax Poetry and Art Library.

Previously published in Texas Poetry Magazine:
The Billboard Over the Waco Kolache Shoppe

by Emma Matus

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