Familiar steps lead through you through midtown subway stations, Long Island Railroad tracks, and a terminal you know now like you lived there. A brief visit comes to an end, a top up of love so strong it risks beating your heart out of it chest, such is life when you've worked a lifetime to get there.You do not mourn this departure, because you know it is but the beginning of a journey, not the end.
I go west, again, again, searching for treasures underneath the red sand, for answers in the open road, I have no fear because I know they lie waiting there, and I have no choice but to find them.
Pack up your car, my dear, put your books and your dreams in the back of the old station wagon and turn the radio on. The way lies untouched ahead, and you've nothing left now to do
but reach it.
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