Invitation

I would like to invite you into every place
I knew once

as a child, like songs, with lyrics too,
that lived inside

the nighttime chirp of crickets, or to stand at the edge
of the world,

our feet stained orange from sunset and the scales
of fishes,

we’d walk beneath the constellations
and later

draw them on our pillows so that our first two
fingers, lovers,

could sleep beneath. I want to find the secret
places again,

between the stones, and take you there.
The doorway

is partway open, an invitation,
my heart,

let’s go.

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Tow Truck Song

Two long hours on the side of the road,
waiting for the man who will help me get towed,
the sun is shining through the windowpane,
I guess it’s high time to write a song.

If you were here, you’d be changing my tire,
and you’d be gritting your teeth like a real live wire,
instead I’m here laying down these words yet again,
and the towing man is coming along.

The road is long and the road is hazy,
and the trucks driving by are getting closer than crazy,
their big engines rattle in the back of my brain,
and the afternoon is gathering on.

And hey wait a minute there’s gold in the trees,
and the wide open windows spill a warm little breeze,
the way the clouds are gathering, it reminds me of rain.
They say the tow truck is ambling along.

Supposed to be somewhere, supposed to be there on time,
but now I’m killing hours on this long white line.
If I had to do it over I might do it again –
it’s the way you look at something makes it wrong.

So next time you’re sitting on the side of the road,
do something nice with your mind while you waits to get towed.
If you had to do it over you might do it again –
when you’re feeling right, it can’t be so wrong.