No matter the degrees earned, the “culture” acquired
My soul settles on a warm summer eve under the full moon
Johnny Cash slides out of the radio into the night
On a lonesome train whistle.
No matter how far I roam, the roads to home are dusty
Under a wild blue Colorado sky silhouetting
Golden eagles riding the thermals
As the setting sun rains fire on the fourteeners.
Living in the suburbs the horizon calls.
Come and find what was never lost. Grab a cold beer, sit at the
Bar and sink deep into where you never left
And never lost
Your roots.
***
Tracy Linder considers herself the proverbial “Jack of all trades, Master of none.” At any one time she is a teacher, counselor, wordsmith, classical pianist, vocal soloist (usually in the shower), avid baker, amateur fan of history, film, theater, and every so often finds time to sit quietly with an embroidery hoop. She currently works from home.
