Photo Credit: Lindsey De Jong
By David De Jong
Workin’ on a scratch numbin’ my brain,
Movin’ along, like an up-hill train.
Tryin’ to express, just how I feel,
Searchin’ right words, make it seem real.
Listenin’ to old paint while it peels,
Polishin’ scuff back on the heels.
Rusty old hinge, cryin’ at the breeze,
Busted stirrup, buried deep in leaves,
Settlin’ fence, fightin’ tumbled weeds,
Broken wire, hidin’ inside the trees.
See em with your ears, hear em with your eyes,
Riddles of mem’ry on painted skies,
They won’t be comin’ as no surprise.
Sparks of a flame chasin’ coal-spent fires,
Where a mind wanders when it retires.
Lookin’ four ways on a one-way street.
In a one-horse town, we all compete.
When it all comes clear – it’ll sure be sweet.