I lay in the bed of the Gypsy Train
sun begins to set on pages of a book
corner of my eye watching sunflowers
pass by in beautiful blur
Zach Watson sits next to me
on a busted green plastic chair
guitar in lap we sing songs
about girls of the past - we smile about the present
feeling enchanted while another crimson twilight falls
the night passes in beautiful blur
Morning finds me in a tent
rheumy-eyed and hung over but still
that same smile about the present
entangled with an extraordinary brunette
my arm still sleeps resting under her head
I slide it from under her head delicately
leave her lying to rest with a kiss
Zach Watson sits next to me
on a busted green plastic chair
cutting board in lap we are aged 26 and deliberate
reasons for conventionalism or lack of reasons
pots clank, potatoes fry, water boils, coffee is served
then all disintegrating into a mad talkfest-yellfest
our morning passes in beautiful blur
Afternoon is upon us
the road was calling
we don't talk, we say nothing, we drive on
through another South American Country
the wanders and wonder away from the pan-american
we scour the country side for a place to make our home for the night
We site in our busted green plastic chairs
watching the day turn into night in "gypsy" solitary
skies are clear everything is silent except our voices and crackle of fire
stars and fireflies arrive
our eyes negotiate where stars begin fireflies end
oh how I love these beautiful blurs
By: Mike McNett
Authors note: there's a big wide beautiful world out there for those who want it, its out there!
I didn't know you could write like this Mike. I am truly impressed.
ReplyDeleteZach Watson sits across the world from you now in a computer chair with no cutting board in his hand, far far away from those green plastic chairs.
Mike,
ReplyDeleteThat is wonderful...and so you!!
Bill (Creator of Zach Watson)