Moonlight Mile
Page 2
I turned to see a grey haired man bent over a guitar flat on his knees, working a steel slide. THen a younger version of him sang out one of my favorite tunes, "Moonlight Mile". pure and sweet. just the two of them. you could feel the longing of the man heading for home in the dark, guided by the full moon.
As the song was ending some fool started yowling "rock and roll! play some rock and roll"
The spell broken, I left.
I turned toward home and the roads became as familiar as the cold became intense. The clouds had cleared leaving a full moon lighting the land with a silver fire. The air was damp and chilly. I dropped into the last valley toward home and shut off the lights. The bike flew over the road. My way lit only by the moon I chased.
As I dropped to the bottom of the valley, I saw a thick fog ahead. the bike sailed into it. It was like diving into a cold, murky lake. the fog clawed at my skin. Ice cold spots of ache grew on my forhead and cheeks.
I switched the lights on and fought the fog to a standstill.The fog will not fuck with the midnight rider. I found a clear spot and I could see the mist cover the fields with a delicate touch.
I climbed out of the valley and down my own home road with the moon on my shoulder.
As I pulled into the driveway and shut down the bike, the song echoed in my ears.
The sound of strangers
sendin' nothin' to my mind
just another mad mad day
and I'm just about a moonlight mile
on down the road.
09/21/2002
Text copyright 2002 Michael
Hazen. All Rights Reserved.
Some Images borrowed from the internet.
Direct any concerns to:
ME