The scratchy waves of old tunes fill my ride.
Through the dated buildings, past the lights, I roll into the fields.
Mountains lead my winding way.
The mist rises. Seasons vary their path.
I look down upon the river and slide down its slender arms.
Smokey dew wakes me up. The sunlight stirs my soul.
I see others who have been awake for hours.
Their attire amuses me. Miyazaki
A burial site makes me think of my grandmother. Beautiful view, linked memories, eternally a family.
My mind reflects on the twists and turns, bumps and ripples. Every angle is like a painting; a photograph waiting to be taken.
The last turn shakes me back. The school bell rings. The daydreamer is late again.
See you on the way home my friend.
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