Time melts away like
a Dali painting,
and my mind flies north;
a Canadian goose against the
loose gray sky,
freer than any man's ever been.
Yesterday, I was a
melancholic little one, feeling all of
Seasons in the Sun, on the radio.
5 years old, in the
backseat of my mom's black Plymouth.
Mom's gone.
Dad is too.
I'm getting old, but I will
never stop searching for that
gold in the heart.
I'm finally the simple prairie man that I
always longed to be.
I smell the autumnal night, and it's
nothing but cattails and bass from here until
that big orange fire paints the
west end of the lake.
Sep 3, 2023
Sep 3, 2023 at 9:44 PM UTC
Time melts away like
a Dali painting,
and my mind flies north;
a Canadian goose against the
loose gray sky,
freer than any man's ever been.
Yesterday, I was a
melancholic little one, feeling all of
Seasons in the Sun, on the radio.
5 years old, in the
backseat of my mom's black Plymouth.
Mom's gone.
Dad is too.
I'm getting old, but I will
never stop searching for that
gold in the heart.
I'm finally the simple prairie man that I
always longed to be.
I smell the autumnal night, and it's
nothing but cattails and bass from here until
that big orange fire paints the
west end of the lake.
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