She's waiting for that living down a dirt road,
country song type of love,
a rusty voice singing along,
as their fingers brush the strings of a beat up guitar,
chorus humming about a house way back yonder in the sticks,
kids on the tailgate in the back of the truck,
an autumn breeze whistling through the branches of decades old trees,
there's dirt smeared on their cheeks,
lake water dampening the cuffs of their jeans,
a day spent in the mountains casting worms on their lines,
even if they were tired and hadn't caught anything for the day,
their laughter could be heard from a mile away,
traditions to make up a life,
you wish could last forever,
a day wouldn't ever pass by,
that he wouldn't come up from behind,
wrapping his arms around her waist,
nuzzling his face into the nape of her neck,
a partner,
a best friend,
someone who would stick along beside her,
slow dancing to songs in the living room,
when the kids are asleep,
sports games and dance recitals on weekends,
a wholesome kind of living,
her own kind of southern lullaby...
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