Ghosts of barbed wire fences flow past in the periphery as miles slide by. Headlights struggle to penetrate the blackness of night. Years remembered find conscious thoughts while the sleeping country road keeps silent company and the hours melt away.
Port Lavaca, Texas piers at daybreak
Lonesomeness grows in yesterday’s memories haunted by family and friends. Blackness and monotony of pre-dawn travel create a melancholy mood recalling things that never will be, things that never have been, and promise unfulfilled. Dissatisfaction sets in as goals fade in the inadequacy of human effort, yet I continue in the blackness toward the day’s work which provides the sustenance of American life. Confidences of youth fade as years fall away in sequence and imagined future stagnates in necessary work.
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