Meter stopped at the county line
Fare collected engine whine
Thirty years I've known these roads
Dust settles on the heavy loads
Veranda green where shadows play
Night blooms open drinks the day
Taxi driver gardener meet
Where the desert finds its beat
Clay pots bake on the motel porch
Succulents reach for morning torch
Agave spines catch copper light
Roots drink deep the cool night
Veranda green where shadows play
Night blooms open drinks the day
Taxi driver gardener meet
Where the desert finds its beat
Santa Fe lights bleed through the pines
Dashboard saint keeps watch on signs
Pickup wait at the midnight hour
Engine hums like desert flower
Veranda green where shadows play
Night blooms open drinks the day
Taxi driver gardener meet
Where the desert finds its beat
Tomato vines climb chicken wire
Green fruit swells in slow fire
Hands stained dark from loam and clay
Waiting for the break of day
Mile markers fade to rust
Dreams take root in desert dust
Two old hands share one thermos cup
Warmth against the cooling up
Next fare calls from the plaza square
Seedlings sleep in the cooling air
Meter clicks as I pull away
Vines will climb another day
Veranda green where shadows play
Night blooms open drinks the day
Taxi driver gardener meet
Where the desert finds its beat
Veranda green the only sign
Two old souls in borrowed time
Veranda green veranda green
Where the desert finds its dream
Engine fades on the county line
Veranda green stays in my mind
