Yesterday, I climbed the big oak
behind the old red barn
just high enough where the robin waits with open arms.
But I’m restless, more like a feather in the wind
that can’t fight the breeze.
Instead of being sturdy like this tree.
I am just a simple loner climbing away
from my own shattered hopes and whispers of love.
Feel sorry for the robin and what she does.
Dixie's Road Trip 