Steam trails of a hat trade off life.

I once met a woman who
Rode the rodeo
she made up Her life
as she rode along
hiding in the sun under a sombrero
stories of her own human desires
A hat trade off life.

If i could Remember more
Than that backwards glance
Id drink to the stars i saw
and maybe one day
We’d dance.

the late nights
dust soaring serenades
The brakes and sparks
A broken piano full of
Out of tune ideas 
Of pitch and questions
Over class

Sobriety society taboos.
Stories told on the fly
Spinning webs of fiction
A reorientation of small town world
from static movements

Landscaped in the steam trails
Finger paint pictures drawn on silica sand.