The old county
Where I grew up
The straw north
Outside the state park
Where you could hear the rides
At night
Off the highway
That creaked in the evening
And cracked at dawn
The fields filled with
Corn and life
Back on
The other side
There is a tree
That grows in the desert
Around a house
Where it is pleasant
All things held constant
It can survive the brutal summers
And winters night
Waning night
Evening gone
Morning later
Will bring the dawn
For now I rest
An easy soul
In my heart
And growing old
Another take
Staying awake
My mind roams
When it gets to late
So in a hurry
I push the buttons
Most the tiem
I don’t even know
What’s coming
Left on Hillcrest
Off on Dunes Highway
Over the tracks
On
The near side
There is a place
Where my family resides
Off the beach
With no sand
That is where my family land
So bored
The routine
Grabs me
Sits me down
Holds me in attention
For now
I focus
On the path forward
Into the future
My own
Eyes
Have seen
Opportunity
Have seen struggle
Tough times
Amidst the good
A mixed bag
Not always what I wanted
But what it should
Be
Eternity edges
On scaffolding ledges
Of high rises
Lifted and forgotten
Rolled up sleeves
And highly uncommon
Shadow roll
Over the edges
Of crisp white walls
Windows ajar
With the sound of rumbling
Cars
Lame lights burn
Incandescent glow
On the face of a man
In a restraint
Alone
Around him the burning glow
Of a personal computers
Impersonal glare
With not one care
A Cup of Songwriting 