Notes About The Poem
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WHERE TEXAS LEGENDS WALK THE NIGHT
The old pecan trees murmur tales at dusk,
their branches bending low with whispered lore;
a phantom rider stirs the meadow’s musk,
his shadow slipping past the ranch house door.
The bluebonnets turn their faces as if to hear
the cadence of his hoofbeats threading through the year.
Some say he guards the dreams the lost ones keep,
and walks the night so Texas souls may sleep.
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