Eighteen wheels on a salted road
Carrying a heavy load
Silver mist on a rusted gate
Waiting on a ferry late
Gold light on the empty pier
Morning makes the vision clear
Steady hand on a steering wheel
Cold wind on the polished steel
Roots of *Quercus* hold the clay
Watching as the night turns gray
I plant a seed in the frozen sand
Tending to a lonely land
Gold light on the empty pier
Morning makes the vision clear
Steady hand on a steering wheel
Cold wind on the polished steel
Diesel smoke in a winter sky
Watching all the gulls fly high
Diesel fumes and a scent of pine
Crossing over a border line
Gold light on the empty pier
Morning makes the vision clear
Steady hand on a steering wheel
Cold wind on the polished steel
Slow a breath and hold the line
Wait for the cosmic design
Syllables of a Latin name
Lighting up a steady flame
Iron chains on a concrete floor
Opening a heavy door
*Taraxacum* grows in the crack
There is no way of turning back
Gold light on the empty pier
Morning makes the vision clear
Steady hand on a steering wheel
Cold wind on the polished steel
Steady hand on the wheel.
Heavy haul dawn.
