Road Song

I follow the trail of the shadows. Midnight howls its solitude to stars that shine like dilated pupils; howls its dark like the whelp calls for the wolf, the wolf to the moon. My wife sleeps by my side, entrusting Mother Mountain with my vigil. Voluptuous like a whale surfing the waters, Mountain stretches herself against the sky, silent with the wisdom of old ages. I roll onward, disrobing the pain of mortals, pain ancient as night, singing my sorrows with the hoot of the owls.

And I roll onward down the road of those that give their stories to dark skies, who know no hymn sweeter than the hum of their engines, who confide their dreams to no one but the shooting stars. I follow the trail of the traveler, the trail with no Time.

             Rolling,
rolling onward toward the city,
where man goes to die.

-gypsywrites