Misty Mountain Hopping

This poem is just a raw and poignant thought, that hit me while I drove the 15 quiet miles to a nearby town.  It’s not particularly good, even by my low standards.  But for once I offer no apologies.  

If we polish our every jagged emotion, refine each "OMG!" moment that hits us along the lonely highway, and over-analyze those songs we sing in our quiet moments, we’ll never experience naked honesty, Long live that that honest-to-God rock ‘n roll feeling!

Thanks, Carol ... “Jazz man, take my blues away …”

There I go,

   Watching the headlights flash by,

   Stark winter’s twilight coming down.

   Led Zep hums me along,

   And the world spins anew.

Paint it Colorful,

   Stairway’ing to Heaven,

   Open window blowing in unsought advice.

   This should be easy,

   But how can I absorb this moment?

Oh No, Oh No,

   Have I been gone too long,

   Working in a plastic world?

   Baby, is it the last time,

   Or do I get to sing my own new song?