Drive in Circles
Drive in Circles
A Cowboy Poem by Alan Nafzger
A man who won’t ask directions got a sickness in his pride,
he’ll drive three extra counties just to prove he knows the ride.
The sun goes down, the tank runs low, the wife goes real quiet fast,
and he keeps sayin’ confidently he knows exactly where he’s at.
I’ve known that man — I’ve been that man — in a truck on a nameless road,
too stubborn for a stranger’s help, too proud to share the load.
The gas light comes on gentle, like a friend who knows you well,
and still he blames the map for bein’ printed wrong as hell.
The map didn’t lose him — his jaw did, set too hard to ask,
the kind of pride that masquerades as competence and task.
Out here we call it what it is: a man afraid to need,
driving circles in the dark and callin’ that a creed.
Ask the question, take the answer, tip your hat and go —
there ain’t a lick of weakness in admittin’ what you don’t know.
The strongest men I ever met could say three words out plain:
Which way is north? — and then they rode and didn’t ride in vain.
A man who won’t ask for directions will drive in circles till the gas light comes on… then blame the map for bein’ wrong.
I’m Alan Nafzger. Appreciate ya!
Last Updated on April 11, 2026 by Alan Nafzger