THE DRIFTERS WAY
Into the night, the rider stole the wind,
Of a thousand memories past before him.
And wandering into the night,
He sees a light and curiosity overcomes him.
The fire so bright and yet so small warms him,
The cold but a memory as the flame dies into sleep.
The dreams are but miniscule of the past,
While challenges seem so real.
The first dawns sun awakens him,
And the birds song on air is sweet melody.
The coffee is a welcome friend,
Too soon he must be passing on.
The trying times of a drifter,
No place to call his home.
Soon becomes a distant spot
On the horizon.
When age is come,
And time is passed,
The drifter settles,
Reminisces the past.
Of places been and people met,
The sound of rain,the smell of wet.
The choice was made to live this life,
No day is done,no taken wife.
No joy is lost,
The way was a choice,
And into the wind,
He throws hs voice.
Of dust and snow and sleet and hail,
The times were good,he'd never fail,
But now days done and time has passed,
Into the wind the memories will last. |
