Roads At Dawn

Sun rises on a gravel road, skies painted pink and gold

Tires hum a tune, every mile a story told

Fields of corn whisper secrets to the breeze

Small town life, like a well-worn pair of jeans

Grandma's porch swing creaks with each passing year

Dogs bark in the distance, some comfort in their cheer

Barn silhouettes against the fading amber light

Families gather 'round for another Southern night

On these roads at dawn, tales of old are spun

In every shadow cast, the work's never done