An old country town
Tucked away
In a mountain side
I pop my ears
From the pressure on this elevating drive
Found a blue antique shop
Called"Weston Village Store"
They were just about to close but
The owner told me to explore
An old saw mill
As vacant as the sky
Saw a ghost in the window
A greenish-lightleak
In my eye
Somehow I'm still
On 95
One day
When I've grown old
With misanthropy
I'll always want you
Here with me
We can retire
Into leaves
We change with autumn
Then wait 'til spring
Before I know it
I'm burning daylight
Get back on the highway
While a ring tone
Clouds my mind
I check into a log cabin
To stay the night
I park my car
Grab my things
Then head inside
I look at dark wood
Graced by tungsten light
From an array of lamps
Around a cozy nook
I'll sit there and I'll write
One day
I'd love to make it back
Living in the vermont
Forest night
The deer make
Good friends
As they run through
Sticks and leaves
I lay alone
As birds clamor
Among the trees
In and out
My head
As I read Lovecraft
And fall asleep