Twine

We follow roads that wind like twine

Through country side

The poor and the fine

We rode in cars packed to the brim

With books and friends

Eager as kids



Seeking peace and silent sound

But the road could not be found

Three times drove past and turned around

Home sweet home

Our cabin in the pines



Couch rearranged

The stories spilled

Unguarded mouths

As life filled the house

Drip, drip, drip

Goes shower, sink

Keeping time on metal beneath



Seeking peace and silent sound

Hours of heaviness profound

Moon, soft moon

Your mist, sweet perfume