leaving Saxapahaw: the fifth stanza

I’m a singer.  I love to sing good lyrics.  Monday through Thursday, on my way to work, I sing.

I listen closely to lyrics.  The first time I heard my friend, Brian Hershberger, sing “Stolen Car” (Bruce Springsteen), I thought this song’s not just about driving a stolen car.

I ride in a stolen car.  Sometimes I think I drive that stolen car, but I don’t.

A song I’m currently obsessed with is Jason Isbell’s “Traveling Alone”, which speaks to me on a bone marrow level.  I’ve been singing it for about 2 weeks to and from work, on the weekends, it seems to always be in my head; I think Richard is going crazy hearing it.  Constantly.  Oh well.  For better.  For worse.  Right?

I don’t usually post twice in a day, but since I seem to be on a leaving subject, there’s a poem for my next book that I’ve titled “leaving Saxapahaw”.  Here’s the fifth stanza.

leaving Saxapahaw:  the fifth stanza

I ask Everett to warm up my green 1967 Valiant

he loads my luggage and record collection in the trunk

I push the radio buttons and drive past raspberry brambles

my bobble head collection nods in the rear window

roadside weeds wave their farewell fronds

my mules watch me abandon Everett and our dirt

it’s not easy to leave

© Cindy B. Stevens

8 October 2017

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