Tall grasses brush against fingertips
Her skirt sways in the breeze
Little flowers surround her
A light scent that cant be febrezed
A warmth that sinks into her skin
And eases her troubled heart
A feeling she cant put with a memory
A bittersweet work of art
It makes her feel like a child again
And shes no longer made of stone
A smile plays gently on her lips
It feels so much like home