The sky is so blue,
It almost hurts my eyes to breathe it in.

I walk down a gravel road.
On each side of me,
Wheat just turned to gold.
The wind lets itself be seen,
As it runs through the fields,
Ebbing and flowing like the Atlantic sea.
I sit and stare at clouds,
The buffalo of the sky roaming the prairie
for food and the company of a crowd.
I am surrounded by all of it,
But it seems as if I can touch none of it.
The only thing left to do is breathe, stare,
And do your best not to be overwhelmed by it all.

11/30/2009

Posted on 11/30/2009
Copyright © 2024 Jared Fladeland