It was only when she got tired
she'd think of him.
Reminisce and wonder
how it might have been.

Being led by stark emotions,
she'd break out the old records.
The ones that didn't get broken

She was twenty-seven,
he was thirty-one.
Luminary lovers in the
hot Texas sun.

Saturdays found mischief
or scanning that old record store.
Looking for Southern rock
down on Garland road.

Sunday night came to quick for her,
though he said he'd had enough.
He took her home, and tried
to put her out of his mind and up.

This went on for awhile
maybe three, then he'd miss
her more than he wanted
to say, so she moved in.

Never minding taking care of him,
or his crazy ways, she was happy
to help in every way. It all changed
on one uneventful day.

He had a hard time staying
anywhere for too long.
So he planned to leave town
and not take her along.

She had her own plans, with her
chin set firm and her mind made up.
She hopped into that sixty-six Chevy truck.

Drove that baby to the East coast,
singing Marshall Tucker songs
all the way. The years were both
good and ghastly to them or maybe
it was the reverse.

Ten years later she looked at him
and saw a love still there.
Though a tear dropped onto
her quivering lip, she knew he
had to say goodbye once more.

Their time was now over
but greater than any she had
ever hoped for. No regret in her eyes
and none in his. Though it looked
as though a message was unspoken.

It would be another ten years passing
before she looked for that message
in his traveling song. Now remembering his
unspoken words, their secrets, she understood
the secrets in a song.

© Janet Caldwell 2001-2010