Its the dirt road
at my house
in the morning
that I drive
where they stare
if I stop
to look closer
to the world
is poorly paved
I filled some holes
but they are hard to avoid
show their true depth
I descend in them
to spare my nerves
and well lit
it does not
I wont go
I stay here
in the shadow
A road, lost in a vast landscape, under just fallen snow.
On a morning where the world still sleeps,
and an early sun draws shadows on the hills.
I see this all, smell the cold air, and walk in careful silence towards my destination,
where a white shroud is brushed away in thoughtful patterns.
The night is gone, we role forwards to make a new track and find soil.
A dark, heavy haze hangs over,
the divided road we follow.
A road that turns with every step.
And Unpaved roads do follow,
follow with the movement, tide of unfamiliar times.
At last with every step on unpaved road
the darkness turns and haze erodes.
The worn-out road going home.
Where dark clouds gather above.
Drifting slowly in opposite way’s.
Pulling me in and pouring me out.