Outside on the street submerged in orange light,
I’m perched watching cars tunnel through the night.
I flashback to Dallas to hear your soft tone,
I hear the train sound, and then I’m alone.
I go home to call, but you are not there.
I think of you out in the city air,
With all our old friends, or out skipping stones.
And then the train sounds, and then I’m alone.
The radio crackles; the signal fades,
So I take a walk through the evening shades.
The lake is placid and serine all through.
I stare for a while, then I skip rocks too.
The moon, like my heart, is lavender blue,
I skip one rock more rock, pretending it’s you
My soul makes a ripple, like the last rock thrown,
And then the train sounds to say I’m alone.