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Cabin
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Some Random & Some Good Poetry Up the mountain road,
Are twists and turns.
The truck begins to slow,
Toward the cabin road we yern.
Through grassy roads,
past cereal trees.
No snakes or toads,
Nor cobras or fleas.
The cabin is tall and brown,
As the deck is creaky.
Four miles to the nearest town,
in case the roof is leaky.
Inside the loft,
and speakers hooked up.
Spread out sleeping backs so soft,
As we carry them up.
When we're done unpacking,
we collect firewood.
When it starts stacking,
starting the fire we should.
Night time falls,
and playing guitars.
Instead of stores and malls,
In the Mountain here we are.
This is cool...but snakes and cobras are the same thing. haha! is utah where potatoes grow...or is that ohio? (just kidding...I know it's montana).
No but really I like this one a lot, it's so peaceful. i like haunted cabins. lalala...