in the distance.
mourning doves at sunrise.
dogs, sending their secret messages
across a neighborhood.
the clinking of glasses in a quiet restaurant.
the moan of a lover.
and the breathlessness.
the oldest of country songs
from a time i really came from.
any sad song... anytime.
hank topless, singing without even a guitar,
when you thought he'd never make it back.
(i know he's made some mistakes,
but that wail of a voice
makes my heart hurt good.)
the scrichety sound sound of the needle
skipping on an old phonograph.
harleys leaving a breakfast diner
on route 66.
cooks complaining and razzing waitresses
in same said diner.
a banjo in the dark.
a lover practicing guitar,
in the afternoon,
with the rain outside.
rain outside in the afternoon.
an old fan, turning on it's axis,
while the asphalt melts silently outside.
a child singing or talking to a "friend"
when they don't know you're there.
bugsy's tattoo gun.
a cat that purrs too loudly while you lie sad.
a laugh that disrupts
the still of a museum or library.
jericho's voice, when he calls back to say,
"mom, i forgot to say i love you."
pine trees in the wind.
waves on the beach.
the sound of keys in the lock
knowing he'll soon smell the apple pie.
in the dark.
and know he's home.
and i am there.