A Time of You
Sometimes beneath the train tracks of my mind,
I remember a merry time of you.
A time of bluebonnets when I was blind,
To your dalliances that left me blue.
We would run into open arms through fields
of summer wildflowers lasting the week
As we would run run run through the backfields
Then I would cry cry cry after midweek.
When memory of you comes in a dream
I think I see the heavens open wide
and it makes me want to cry and then scream
I see the things that need spoken and then decide
My dog will last me longer than a man
Can any day, you train hoppin’ trackman.
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