Sunbaked afternoon after sunbaked afternoon fade into each other, hazy golden glow that lingers persistent, never quite giving way to sunset. Burnt branches reach out across endless skies, solitary silhouettes standing solemn and unyielding. Miles stretch and unfold over unchanging landscapes, marked only by faded highway signs. Wind blows through open car windows, a new kind of silence. Drown out everything around you; neon signs blurr, turn to decades old billboards, peeled back and blistered. Drive west into the horizon; stop only when the roads run out of distance, when everything unfamiliarly familiar forgets your face, left behind you, dust down to dust, settled along the asphalt.
You are who you have always been. Every great pine begins as a single seed, carried, dropped haphazardly in an errant breeze, left to settle first, then to grow. Roots deep, branches ever aching to scrape higher into atmosphere. Silhouette , solitary no longer, find your home and grow.
“They Want to Show You a Dolphin” premiers off Max Knouse’s forthcoming album, Road Toad Ribet , watch for yourself, here:
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