I left you sitting on the side of that old dirt road
Near the place we lived together for so many years

But, unlike me,
You didn’t get up, dust yourself off, and wander off
To see if the rest of the road was paved.

You set up camp and built a cabin
Out of the deadwood laying on the roadside.
Flagging down every lonesome traveler
Who would stop at the sight of your thigh.
You married the first one who staid.

I’m 40 miles gone now, living down past
Where the road hits the highway.
Never staying anywhere for long,
But no longer staying anywhere alone.

I sometimes think of you and that dusty old road.
Maybe someday I’ll return to see if my memories are true
And to remember why that’s no longer my home.