Twine

We follow roads that wind like twine
Through country side
The poor and the fine
We rode in cars packed to the brim
With books and friends
Eager as kids
Seeking peace and silent sound
But the road could not be found
Three times drove past and turned around
Home sweet home
Our cabin in the pines
Couch rearranged
The stories spilled
Unguarded mouths
As life filled the house
Drip, drip, drip
Goes shower, sink
Keeping time on metal beneath
Seeking peace and silent sound
Hours of heaviness profound
Moon, soft moon
Your mist, sweet perfume