You’ll remember me when the west wind moves upon the fields of barley…
I remember that walk with my friend. We wandered aimlessly, talked aimlessly, through that field. The stalks waved to us, brushing us as we meandered.
We had no real destination, but it was very satisfying.
We perched on a hill, gazing out at the expansive field.
“How long d’y’think it goes on?” I asked, sweeping my hand across the horizon.
My companion shrugged. “As far as our friendship, I’d say.”
“I guess that’s far?”
“Yup. Near infinite, I’d think.”
I breeze ruffled my hair. “I’m glad I said hi that day in August,” I mused.
“Y’know,” came the thoughtful response, “I am too.”
...You’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky as we walk in the fields of gold.
Song by Sting