Dust Storm at Monument Valley

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Three Days on the Road

You said that without you was not unkind, 

out of sight, out of mind, 

but three days on the road cannot replace, 

one look at your happy face.

For long hours, the road reaches out, 

to its vanishing point, 

chasing the sun and wind, 

day into night; but you are on my mind.

Thumping tires and engine's roar, 

dull the senses and send you fore. 

Will you be waiting at my door?

Will you still kiss me as before?

Only the murmur in my mind of softer times, 

long ago and far away, 

when all my days were in the future, 

and the only barrier was money and time, 

and in my mind, you were mine.

I wake, and find the bed empty.

Out of sight, 

out of mind, 

out of time, 

at journey's end.

Copyright 1992 © Ronald W. Hull

11/28/92