A country road with
a hazel glow, that
settles around the
watching lazy clouds.
Some kindly fox
that creeps and sits,
camouflaged in a
familiar field of corn.
The floating flies that
swarm adrift, they’re
careful not to try to
care about anything.
Smells of sweet air,
of apples and of pears
and of heat that hugs
your drooping nose.
This land which I don’t
know, and never have I
been will allow me to
visit maybe one day.