I walk this western-facing track,
My shadow slung across my back.
The mild sun in the winter sky
Sings the blues into my eyes.
I pull my pride up by the roots.
I grind the gravel beneath my boots.
I need look neither left nor right.
I walk until I reach the night.
I sleep beneath a blanket of stars.
I prefer them over iron bars.
I pick up my bones at first light.
I walk west, my shadow now in sight.
I am cold and I walk slow,
But I warm up as I go.