Rambling along an old country road, guitar strung across his front as he plucked a small tune
I drove past him, windows down, wondering what the hell he was doing out here on a hot day in mid June
I pulled over and said where are you headed my friend?
He looked sideways at me with a small grin, says I'm on this path until who knows when
His smile inviting, his face bore the tattoos of stories, his eyes the look of a life certainly lived
And before I knew it, I was inviting him to lunch at a diner just past the bend
He had the ease of an aged man who'd been in the company of strangers before
Politely obliging my request, he tipped his hat saying no one hardly asks for my tales anymore
We make our way to the table, I tell him to order whatever he wants, the food is on me -
But the corners of his cowboy mouth turn up, says that wasn’t how I was raised to be
And anyways, no thank you, my cigarettes will do just fine
Like Johnny Cash, I prefer to walk the line
I don't know where to begin so I ask him where he's from
He said a place that ain't seen the likes of him since he was just a young gun
I rode in on a horse then that horse ran away from me
With a suitcase and a twenty dollar bill, I managed to land on my feet
He shrugs off the memory like a worn old coat
I ask him of his greatest companions, the ones who kept him afloat
He launches into stories of late nights and bar fights, of whiskey bottles finished in the early dawn
He says they won’t tell you that the unruliness required to love and to spar is the requirement of any real bond
He pulls a smoke from the pack and asks if I’ve got a light
I put the flame to the end of his American Spirit and watch him take his first drag of the night
He says I’ve sold many tall stories of my endless explorations
But no conqueror compares to that of self-induced isolation
One can only travel so far until everyone else slows to hang back
But I kept pressing forward through this life, kicking and swearing at the sky when it went black
His wrinkled eyes twinge with nostalgia and I’m hanging on to every word
His stories span seas, people, and years - all painted in colorful allure
I ask him if he's ever been in love, he smiles and lowers his head
There was one, he admits, in a voice full of lead
If I didn't know better, I might've thought the glint in his eye was a swirl of reminiscence, not regret
He looks out, says our souls crashed into each other, an unexpected unity until my youth came to collect
Cause when I was young, I thought that sort of thing would come back around all the time
I was on a long journey to who I needed to become so I left it in my prime
Was in search of something different, something that felt right
Now the only time I get to see her is in my dreams on my loneliest nights
He takes his cap off, says these are the burdens of a traveling man
I search day and night, scouring the Earth incessantly in search of who I am
Thought I saw my best friend through a window, but he’s in the dust of decades passed, now ages old
Searched for pieces of the woman I left in everyone I met, hoping for a cheap glimpse of what I sold
Reinvented myself then did it over again for the sake of something new I’d found
Realized I should’ve written more often to someone who is now six feet in the ground
They say easy come, easy go, but this life of mine ain’t for the faint of heart
Many nights spent where my confessionals are only heard by the stars and my guitar
The sun’s long gone down and my tab’s been run up by six cups of coffee refilled to the brim
He stands, his tattered working boots on checkered linoleum, says I better be on my way ma’am
I offer him a ride, tell him I can take him where he needs to go
He just smiles and says if you asked for my destination, I wouldn’t even know
And so he disappears into the night, the universe engulfing him back onto his path
I watch him go, joining the walk with the saints and the sinners, the wraiths and their wrath
I pay the bill, tipping as much as I possibly can
As a homage to the wayward tales of a traveling man