When the music
rises up through
the cords to the
earbuds, encased
in my ears, with
the bass tingles
From my head
to my toes.

My head falls back
I close my eyes
And remember a time,
when Blurry flowed through
my Santa Fe’s speakers.

Driving on Highway 151
through empty fields,
slightly turning to
their harvest color.
The sun shimmers on
the blacktop.

Its haze blurs the road
but the memory is clear.
Driving through the gold
Feeling rich as ever.

Take me back to the days
when the winding roads
are surrounded by gold.

Every time my earbuds
are tucked in my ears,
the music radiates out of my chest,
goosebumps forming.