Hands on the Wheel

Jerry Jeff and Hope on the ride home

Driving home with JerryJeff,

after sitting on Bobby’s porch

in the evening wind with a short cigar

and a splash of Russells

smelling of sawdust and Odee dog

weighted with history

and progeny

but not weighed down.

I’m anchored as I trace

the wellworn route home

JerryJeff sings a Willie

song and, in his own

gotdammed perfectly broken

outlawcosmiccowboyAustininthe70’s way,

changes the lyrics and phrasing

just enough

to make it his own song

and tears flood my eyes and

I let loose a stabbing sob -

a prayer of sorts -

feeling it all

all at once

all of it, if it’s only for a moment

before I have to pay closer attention

to the stop signs and speed limits.

JerryJeff’s been gone almost three years now

Willie’s hanging on held together just like Trigger.

Tonight I feel I’m not that far behind

but far enough that there's still things

I need to see through, to pay back and to pay forward,

things I’ve yet to get to and things yet to pass on,

Niebuhr wrote “nothing that's worth doing can be accomplished

in a lifetime; therefore we are saved by hope”

maybe that’s what I felt in that moment

so I’ll add my voice to the song

I’ve got my hands on the wheel

of something that’s real,

and all this feels just like home.