Ways in Which You Are Like Traveling

Weaving my hand through autumn air
Catching a thrill of mild despair
The hum of the road
A lullaby drone
I grasp at the wind like it's your hair

Cradling your name in my mind
Witnessing Tennessee unwind
Billboards and grass
Forehead on the glass
"It's good to be home," I say resigned

I'm in rough love with these hills that don't remember me
And you're at war with boredom in a place I've never seen

The road is a land unto its own
Nowhere to be, somewhere to go
Motion's a place
It's your static grace
It's where wе go when we sit alone

I rеgret resenting the closeness of cloudy skies
It gives me words for moments when I'm held under your eyes

Forward with you
Nowhere but forward with you
And for a word with you
I would drive right through

I wasn't homesick 'til just now
Didn't know I was in 'til I got out
Duly dismissed
I had something to miss
You dispel hidden loneliness somehow

A breathless change in context putting miles under my feet
These are all the ways in which you are like traveling