Fields of Dreams

Fields of Dreams

The distant cars go by,

faintly headed to unknown destinations;

birds are flying endlessly hither and thither,

expeditious routes taking them on flights of fancy and need;

farm machinery is turning the haylage in anticipation of three cuts – if the weather holds –

and the sweet scent of grasses

gives a tang to my nostrils…

fields of dreams,

I live in thee.

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