Like Gold

Took the old back road.
Through the autumn cold.

Dark mountain night.
Make it right.

Boats burning
in the docks.

The clocks stopped.
Twice.



Never dropped
our guard.

The water
churning hard.

Engines revved up.
Like a storm in a cup.

We don’t collect on Sunday.
Can’t clear the runway.



Another job on the run.
No longer much fun.

Desire.
Burned up in the fire.

A morning fog rolled in.
Uncontrolled.

Blew the embers.
Like gold.