Out on the Road
(c. 2003)

Out on the road, the late night stars as we drift across the highway, singing out with the words
on the radio playing good old times through the crisp mountain air.
Settle down onto the plain, the canyon lands stretch out forever, the lonely
road winds along the rim, with headlights off driving by the moonlight.

“Some great flood washed through here years ago carving the landscape and making these canyons”
for a second we can see it, the water rushing through rocks, tearing at the basalt layers,
crashing up against the cascades and roaring down the Columbia as all rivers
swiftly towards the sea.

Find a spot off the road, put packs on with simple gear for going light, we
find a slot in endless walls and travel up towards the stars.
As we breath into depths and we bore into the night we laugh on through the
visions, tired but searching, seeking out the right expanse.

A place between the tumbleweeds and sage, a soft sand floor, a warm homecoming
we find our destination, with packs down and beds rolled out.
Collapsing down warm inside the feathers we sleep at last, the night comes
and goes, a bead of warmth shimmers on the horizon.