Debra Coppinger Hill

Dirt Road

The traffic flies by at a fast-paced clip.
they say on a warm day it’s a nice little trip.
The county came in and smoothed out the road,
past the porch where we sat and learned of “The code”.

In my mind I still see him though he is long gone,
and I still hear the words to his old Cowboy songs.
He spoke of the cow trails and called them by name.
Said the dust all around us was one and the same.

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