I've been down this road before
Every bit of gravel is an old spirit
To the north is an aging farm
Specifically forty five steps north
The trees turn from green to brown
No longer any in between here
The western half is a constant
East has yet to lose its surprises
Each flower with a different story
Listen to how the moon sings
No matter how many years pass
She sings the same song
Every night I can hear her voice