Crunch

A muted smile
Mud covered shoes
Old Howlin’ Wolf is
Crying the blues

I join right in
‘Cuz I can’t find
The joy in my heart
The calm in my mind

The crunch of the tires
On the deeply packed snow
The warmth of the heater –
I can’t feel it blow

The trees in their lovely
Diaphanous gowns
Bend their knees as we pass
Through each little town

We turn on the highway,
The one that leads home
My heart starts racing
As if it has known,

All along,

This is the last ride.



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