Nothing Left/Nothing Taken

Nothing left,

Spilling over into the tank,

Running on fumes since Denver.

Man, I figure it's a trick,

Some play off the light,

Like sunrays blurring off an eyelash

Driving hours through endless cornfield,

Lost in the bliss of Holy isolation,

Not even a woman can take that from you.

Nothing taken.

I'll drop you down by the hollows,

With the engine blocks and A-frames,

Where nothing much happens for lifetimes.

Where a man can ponder sin and redemption,

The even draw of Saint and Sinner

Since God drew Adam from the dirt.

And night draws quicker than you'd hope,

As the first cold winds draw down from the plains,

Whistling through those dry stalks,

Sounding like ghosts stirring through fields,

Watching dirt devils and combines kicking up dust.

From flatland to horizon, nothing but God's sky.

Where a man wrestles his own dark thoughts,

As some of those ghost hover the sky.

A lone set of headlights sweep up the highway,as the wind whispers a fate you'd rather not hear.

                        *

           July 22 2007