Hometown Nights

not a word of warning
about this memory
on restless spring nights,

no crickets calling
no train whistles
no stars,

the city kids here
have never seen the sky like me
clothed in all its diamond glory,

they don’t know the secrets,
of apple orchard drives in the
deep dark night,

the cool, fresh dew
thrilling, calling, to fly
a little faster down those roads,

let me out, let me go
release this wild yearning,
longing for my home.