975 What I heard about you

If you've ever lived in a small town, you know exactly what this poem is about, and if you haven't, you just wouldn't understand. And speaking of small towns, this trip we did manage to see Brownsburg, Indiana and Plainfield, Indiana, both under 20,000. Until Saturday, Brownsburg was a place to buy gas. Plainfield has a new library that looks really terrific; easy access to Indianapolis if any librarians are looking for a good spot for a dual income family. I checked to see if a photo was on the web, but didn't see one. The closest I could come is the history site.

What I heard about you
by Norma Bruce

I heard you’d gone to Canada;
I heard you’d crossed at night.
I heard you loved the open space,
and spoke their English right.

I heard you’d moved to Oregon;
I heard you’d gone for good.
I heard you took your saxophone,
and a wore a woolen hood.

I heard you’d flown to Arkansas;
I heard you’d sold your horse.
I heard you sang the old sad songs,
and found your twang, of course.

I heard you’d camped in Alabam;
I heard you’d snared a crook.
I heard you set a clever trap,
and then you wrote a book.

I heard you’d traveled Iowa
I heard you’d hired a boat.
I heard you bought a soybean farm,
and that was all you wrote.

I heard you’d biked to O-hi-o;
I heard you’d tried to call.
I heard you lost your BlackBerry,
while browsing Tuttle Mall.

I heard you’d entered Mexico;
I heard you’d seen the Rio Grande.
I heard you searched for ancient tribes,
and all you found was sand.

So nowadays I don’t pretend
the tales I hear are strange;
if anyone your name brings up--
my plans don’t rearrange.