Into the Gas Tank

Into the gas tank
I pour thoughts and the future.
I know there is no escape,
but for the time being
my dreams lie to the west.

Late afternoon sun in my eyes.
sears, burns, like so many lies.
I block it out the best I can,
with the visor and my hand.

I force myself to stay awake,
Through disheveled hair, fingers rake.
Behind the cloud sun hides,
only a moment break it provides.

A half full gas tank
show my thoughts and dreams.
I know that escape
is in the simplicity
of following the road into the west.

In the middle of the windshield the sun stays,
through the miles I fight its rays.
The ground slowly swallows the sun,
another day nearly done.

This is the best time it seems;
clouds, road, the waning sun beams.
Colors range from pink to orange, to red;
goodnight to the land the rays said.

A near empty gas tank,
my dreams are like so many fumes.
This journey isn't about escape,
just about the joys
of giving into life and a journey west.

I have driven away from you
and the bright of day too.
Only a few more miles to go,
driving under the moon's glow.

I must stop for the night,
and wait again for sun's light
to streak across the waking land,
I will move once more, steering wheel in hand.

Into the gas tank
I poured thoughts and the future,
knowing there is no escape,
but for the time being
my dreams lie to the west.