Talking To Myself Again Poem by Smoky Hoss

I haven't had a good conversation
since I don't know when.
It's a sign of the times
and the shape I'm in.
I see birds on the feeder,
and squirrels in the cedar.
It's out here I find me, every now and then,
sitting and talking, to myself again.

I go down to the station
in my pickup truck.
I walk inside for a Coke
and tell the fella, fill 'er up.
I see clouds in the sky,
and a hawk flying by.
It's places like this, every now and then,
I find me, talking to myself once again.

I sold my old rundown house today,
packed one small grip,
and simply walked away.
I see a quiet two-lane road,
and a contented man carrying a light load...
It's in times like these, every now and then,
I find me, smiling, walking and talking,
with my true self, once again.

Just out there, walking and talking,
with myself again, moving on
with a long lost old friend,
finding out where I'm going, and where I've been...
walking and talking with myself again.