on those dreamy days

when I let my mind wander

out the window and into the plains

of my imagination

sometimes,

I find you,

hidden in the fields,

always disappearing

out of earshot, 

racing through the golden grains.

You, once vivid, real, breathing

being my reason

my everything

my future,

now reduced to a wisp,

a fragment,

a notion,

the little seeds caught in my hand

from running my fingers through the ocean

of stalks of wheat,

blown away in the wind.

There was a time

I loved you

I lived for you

never wanting to leave you

in fear that

you just might miss me.

These days

I am detached,

your face a muddled blur on a page

a smudged marking I can't erase.

Still, sometimes

when I allow myself to let go

I float through our fields of love we sowed,

so long ago

and watch two young people dance and spin,

wrapped in a whirlwind of passion.

The girl, I think

used to be me,

but perhaps, now

only in my memory.

I've since been set free.

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