Hopkins Creek

Summer breeze the trees are swaying
all along the open spaces
not one road to drive the noise in
clears my thoughts of all my has-beens

all my words have been sentenced
or else I would’ve mentioned
when our heavy breathing slows down
the silence turns to woodsounds

out here I feel like a sinner
who’s been redeemed

when I move as though
my bones are made of stone
and I can’t shake this load that’s on my shoulders
well you lift me up alone
and let me be some other

even out here I need someone other
someone other than me