Rain, Field

Give me a field.

New wildflowers littering the ground.

The sound of a creek always in the back of my ear.

Sparrows dart around in the daylight,

bats come out at dusk.

Aspens flutter the eyesight with the coming ray-light.

I need this grove, garden of herbs.

So many souls to speak with, 

that can never be heard.

Can you find me,

this sanctuary?

Lazy asylum, 

in early may rain.

-

Passing thoughts always will stay,

like raindrops on the arm.

Lost, lost, pass away.

Free-fall flying,

in this urban space we're dying.

While the raindrops soak under our feet.

-

My words,

only raindrops grounded.

The End

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