Poem: West of Amarillo

The road out here is so flat
You can smell the ocean breeze
Blowing across the Texas expanse
In this wide open stretch of earth
With windows down and radio up
The path ahead is all that exists
Disappearing into the horizon
Where western sky consumes the sun
In totality allowing the stars to shine
Like the true suns they are
Under the dark of a new moon
That hangs in the sky invisible
A ghostly watcher over a desert scene
Abandoned except for the sounds
Of four wheels and Bob Seger
Accompanied by the voice of the lonely

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