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Out on the back roads, beneath the Kansas sky,

Eric's driving solo, where the Flint Hills lie.

With a mind full of stories that the quiet roads compel,

He stops to catch the echoes that in his heart do swell.

 

In the Kansas hills beneath the evening sun,

Eric writes his tale, a man he knows so well.

In a world that's changing, it's a story he must tell,

The life of the unintentional loner.

 

Back in school, he had friends by his side,

But as the years rolled on, they drifted like the tide.

Middle age found Eric with a sense of solitude,

Not by choice or plan, just the path of life pursued.

 

He thinks about the friendships that just slipped away,

No bitter endings, they just couldn't stay.

Life had pulled them all to new homes,

And left him wondering how he came to be alone.

 

In the Kansas hills beneath the evening sun,

Eric writes his tale, a man he knows so well.

In a world that's changing, it's a story he must tell,

The life of the unintentional loner.

 

He settled in a small town, never quite his place,

With an accent and name they couldn't embrace.

He made friends with newcomers, those who felt the same,

In a town they'd leave behind—just a memory in a frame.

 

The small town had its circles, bound by what they knew,

Newcomers like him could never quite break through.

Using old connections to maintain their hold,

Those like himself found the welcome to be cold.

 

In the Kansas hills beneath the evening sun,

Eric writes his tale, a man he knows so well.

In a world that's changing, it's a story he must tell,

The life of the unintentional loner.

 

Eric's lessons learned from his younger days:

Tolerance and acceptance guide his adult ways.

He's thankful for the insights gained on his journey,

Embracing the differences defining his story.

 

He loves conversation, asking questions deep,

Learning from others, their stories he keeps.

But his own tale is often left untold,

He's made peace with it as the years unfold.

 

In the Kansas hills beneath the setting sun,

Eric writes his tale, a man he knows so well.

In a world that's changing, it's a story he must tell,

The life of the unintentional loner.

 

He accepts his circle is smaller than younger days,

When friends were everywhere in carefree ways.

But family time and writing keep his heart content,

These simple pleasures are how his years are spent.

 

Eric flips his notepad closed and sighs in the chill;

Daylight fades over the Kansas hills.

 

Alan Simpson