echoes

The wind in my hair. ears, the sky.

& night moon rising, as I slowly move by.

1,000 miles on this old dirt road,

where do I go? who shall i see?

do we fit in pockets?

or that sweet by and by?

Oh, Georgia, fool me.

there’s a river flowing,

and i’ll go downstream.

____

baby, the southern gospel

<<just don’t preach sweetly>>

.

These statements, periods, of time, go by.

while they sip on their sweet tea, and i just can’t seem.

.

there’s a song in these bones

like there’s blood in me.

and i know you’re not blind,

but some folks don’t sing.

and a truth that rhythm is

faith reckoning.