Two-Lane Blacktop
Driving the two-lane blacktop with my wife,
I watch the road while she watches the verge,
Seeing the season’s homage to new life,
Growing things responding to the old urge.
I watch the road while she watches the verge,
Loving the life in everything she sees,
Growing things responding to the old urge,
Driving us as nectar drives the bees.
Loving the life in everything she sees,
She knows that force is dwindling with our years,
Driving us as nectar drives the bees
And touching all our joy with growing fears.
She knows that force is dwindling with our years,
That each year’s spring may be the last for us.
And though our joy is touched by growing fears,
We opt to greet each season without fuss.
Though each year's spring may be the last for us,
We take our comfort driving side by side,
And opt to greet each season without fuss
As we have done for decades, groom and bride.
As we have done for decades, groom and bride,
I watch the road while she watches the verge.
We take our comfort driving side by side
While growing things respond to the old urge.
The Day's Coming Fast
The day’s coming fast to decide what to think of my time,
My stumbling and random approach to the brink of my time.
I’ve thought very little about how I’ve got here from there,
While forging the chain every day link by link of my time.
While I spend my days lost in thoughts of my own small affairs,
The cosmos expands without even a blink for my time.
So this, I suppose, is the sum of my thought for it all:
The great arching cavern finds only a chink for my time.
There’s no sense in hoping I’m in for a fortunate fall.
It’s clear that a nod is as good as a wink for my time.
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