Packed my bags, boxes and crates,
Each with a story, each with a tale.
Your eyes were welled, your tears were dry,
"Promise you’ll write, or send a mail"
But my dear, it’s okay, life’s a Journey,
I’m a journeyman, saying goodbye again.
A rattle here, and a rattle there,
The way, with empty strips, so bare.
The moon above, and the lights below,
Reflections from the undertow.
The breeze it flows and ebbs along
The rattle, with it’s tune, sing-song
Another stop, another go,
Another one to carry home.
The night is quiet, and the climb, uphill…