I ran and I ran
Trampling Anna’s strawberry field
The earth groping my heart
Naught beneath
The wind as it breathes
Panting against
The faint scent
Of strawberries
And I ran and I ran
Along the scent
Eyeing that orb
Gauging out some sky
Oh and the sky
Gazing and warning
Gently reminding
Consequences of an untimely return
Oh and time
From whom I rush
My dearest foe
My despised friend
And the strawberries,
Their sickly sweet
And their scarlet light
My eyes burn, they sting
Oh, but I must
So I run and I run
Till by a ridge, I fall
My head strokes the rock
And in the ache, I think
Of Anna’s little strawberry field
That though I ran,
I wish I’d just stood,
And breathed, some sickly sweet.