
When days drag, here in the office alone and the optimism is low,
There’s this; your quick video of the open road.
My smile begins across the eyes, a sparkle creates a giggle, my mind senses your truth.
I’m not there but I feel the energy you often exude.
A tractor trailer rolls on down the road, spit causes the shine, and your power is felt by everyone as you drive along by.
Yet, Little Deuce Coupe, is the tune you’re singing, tapping your cowboy boot against the pedal: a musical pair unlike any other.
And I grin, because I’m proud of you, who you are, and wish I was riding along, Big Brother.

















