Rolling Home to Nowhere

Grandma's got grease on his knuckles. Cherry's got mats on her knees. Blueprints spread on

the workbench. Keys hanging off a gum tree. They called it one day,

maybe, said it with a tired laugh. But now the clock on the

office wall is a picture in the past. Rolling home to

nowhere. House on wheels and hearts on fire. They tore it

down to build it higher. Goodbye driveway, goodbye love. Rolling home to

nowhere. Chasing every southern dawn. If you ask where they belong,

they'll say, "Where the road goes on." Steel frame, big-shouldered axles.