Peter A Witt – Amarillo by Evening

Witt LE P&W Vol 1 Nov-Dec 2025

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Live Encounters Poetry & Writing 16th Anniversary Volume One
November- December 2025

Amarillo by Evening, poems by Peter A Witt.


Amarillo by Evening

Driving a vacant highway through overheated west Texas
populated with its miles and miles of nothingness,
Patsy Cline plays on a lonely AM station,
black vultures circle above their shadows thinking I might be prey.

Pass through a town people have left behind,
with wounded windblown signs, and a scrawny stray dog hoping
a kind stranger discards a half-eaten Dairy Queen
sandwich from their takeout lunch from a previous town.

And windmills, some long stationary, pumping life
into concrete troughs, no cattle in sight, only mile after mile
of cactus blooming like fireworks, and new growth
green mesquite trees begging for a squirrel.

Radio switches to another town,
Hank Williams sings a sad song,
the highway sign says 85 miles to Amarillo,
as a jack rabbit avoids my 85 mph tires.


Across the Tracks

He lived north of town,
in a zip code forgotten unknown to most,
where wildflowers bloomed in the unkempt yards,
and dogs ran freely in search of someone
with a kind hand and a morning bowl of food.

Life was solitary, since his Sarah passed,
days now filled with coffee at a neighbor’s table,
nights sustained by a beer at a run down bar.

Saturdays he played cribbage with the guys at a table
set on a concrete slab that once hosted a house,
destitute mother, two ill-clothed kids,
now a community gathering point,
too often taken over by dealers in nefarious drugs.

His days ran into each other, until one Friday
he let one of the dogs stay, a companion,
to while away the hours in a corner
of town abandoned by uber drivers.


The Day Old John Went to Earth

In the shallows of early morning
light thoughts turn to yesterday
and the fading shadow of sunset,
as eyes shut the stars refuse
to shine, the moon melts
to nothing against the blackened sky.

Tomorrow we’ll sing about
the hims and hers
who loved and cared for you,

then cover your remains
with soft spring earth.
as eagles soar and
trumpets blare a final taps
and sad eyes weep
as gentle hugs are exchanged

Over shortbread and strawberries,
your favorites,
stories will be told about this day
and that, each emboldening smiles,

as a soft rain of remembrance
dampens the garden with hope.


© Peter A Witt

Peter A Witt is a Texas poet and a retired university professor. Peter’s poetry deals with personal experiences, both real and imagined. He is a twice published Best of the Net nominee.  His poetry has been published on various sites including Inspired, Open Skies Quarterly, Medusa’s Kitchen, Active Muse, New Verse News, and Blue Bird Word.  When not writing poetry, Peter is an avid birder and wildlife photographer.

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