My mind wanders around
The curves of your soul
So that it jumps and jetters
Like a rusted automobile
Lurching and squeaking,
Solid and heavy
With a distinct perseverance
Against the constant decay
Time always tests.
But it always returns
To the same parking spot,
Slightly encroached upon
By the wild weeds of nature
Also hanging on strong,
So that home is known
And the whispers of water
Flow from my soul to yours
In the dull gray of the road
On the dull gray of the wheel.