The poetry of Beto Ochoa, Prose from a spiritual warrior


The Poetry Of Beto Ochoa~ Prose from a spiritual warrior

Saturday, May 03, 2014

The Highway's Song

In the wee hours on a stormy night
The highway called again
I like home and the simple things
But the highway is my friend

Geese were crying from the waters edge
As the wind blew cool and wet
A lonely dog barked at the sky
My heart and soul were set

I took my tote from the closet top
And flung it on the empty bed
Then fit my world in a Stromberg bag
While the highway's song ran through my head

I left the keys on the counter top
With a good-bye note for all
As I filled the door the geese took flight
And we answered the highways call


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My families came to Texas when It still belonged to Spain.



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