Truck stop reverie

"Truck stop reverie", a line from a Jim White song. I never heard it before until now, even though I've listened to the song many times.

I like that line. I understand that line. I've spent a lot of time at truck stops. 60 hours on the road while in the midwest found many 4am stops at a pilot or conoco. Indiana truck stops. missiouri truck stops. west virginia truck stops. Standing by the highway, sipping coffee or a coke. Eating a cheap sandwich and rubbing tired eyes. Watching rigs and buses and cars speed by like their personal kings of the road.

not me. just an observer, a watcher. A traveller. I've stared at the nevada desert from 25,000 feet. I've seen the pacific from a rocky mexican road. I've been down georgia highways and walked dirt roads in rural kentucky. Slept in motels in upper new york state. Seen blue skies and three layers of white indiana clouds above me, between corn fields and crosses. Between hitch hiking 150 miles through God's land and driverless tractors. Between purple lights hiding behind pre-dawn midwest plains and jesus.

if you ever see the skull and cross bones, swaggering by the edge of a truck stop along a witching hour highway, nod once, and we'll understand.