Clanton & Old Washington

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Rattling gravel against worn red paint
Dust flies up behind
Sun slightly peaks behind aging pines
It brings scents of early morning dew
Mixed with pollen and sweet grasses
Sleepy people yet to rise
Living down this little dirt road

I remember being here with you
Sitting with the radio soft
Laughing over a joke
Of which I don't remember the punch line
Only the curve of your lips
And the way you looked at me

I now drive alone
Quietly through this sober occasion
Smoke slipping between my lips
Filling the hole in my chest
The one shaped like you
Burning into me like a brand

It's ok I suppose
To feel this bitter ache
As painful as it was to leave you
It would have hurt me more
To stay

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