Blowing by at 95.
Through the empty spaces of Texas, slowing on the ridges.
Follow the signs.
The dollar store blues, took the loop too far.
They are the same.
Reaching to the clouds, stretching for the sun.
Those cold valley towns.
Long winter seasons, the light just don't get in.
Where the workers live.
Away from the t shirts, a few pints of beer.
Stories upon stories.
Sleeping on the ice, chasing robbers around.
The mayor was late.
Buy out the old timers, new days ahead.
Nothing sadder than holding on to the past.
You'll get it.
Like a bicycle, rely on muscle memory.
Point em down the hill, trust the edges.
Specialized for a century, ski the woods.
Cling to the hills, stake your claim for awhile.