Life tends to reveal itself
While sitting along the highway
Next to a broken down truck
Cars carry memories in their trunks
And are lost just as quick as they have come
The world doesn’t stop
Just because I’m down on my luck
Everybody, but me, has some place to be

Breaking blades of prairie grass
Thinking of how my sister used to tell me
That the center was Indian gum
Or if it was a trick to get me to eat it
The trail through the front yard field
That we created walking to the bus stop
Still, to this day, exists
But where has our friendship gone

As I sit alone
Every horse on the nearest ranch
Makes their way toward me
To offer a bit of comfort
Or, perhaps, in curiosity
Nevertheless, we break bread together
And share secrets
Communicating in the silent language of horses
Wondering how I can be trapped by a world so big
While they are trapped by a fence so small

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