Bends between mossy boulders
Poor reception in the clouds
on the mountains, they recede and close
behind me, keep my thoughts

trapped on the road
No views, not stopping
for a ***, driving quietly
Standing still is dangerous, perhaps

I'm going to cross a pass to the sun
Still a thought
out of the fog of my feelings
I miss the sun

Bits of Nostalgia on the radio
with a lot of noise
Would it help to cry

once that is safe?