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CA Guilfoyle  Mar 2017
This field
CA Guilfoyle Mar 2017
I cannot write anything, the way my heart tells it
soft in murmurs or echoing loudly as it does
cannot drift the way I'd like, floating free
as dandelion seeds wild in these fields.
I hear words like arrows piercing in.
I feel shocks and waves
the sea that comes to swallow.
I face jangled places
of these fears again
amid storms of grays and clouds
and after the washing rains
the birds come singing, flying.
D Eric Pettigrew Mar 2016
Lying under a Patagonian sky
The silence is loud
A few gauchos happen by
A crowd
The wind sings
As the world passes by.

Distant fields of snow
Paint patterns on peaks
While clouds lay wispy blankets
On glaciers far below

Mother Nature speaks

A lingua franca
Time and space
The whispering of grass
In an empty place.

Estancia Nibepo Aike, January 2011
MJL  Mar 5
MJL Mar 5
Fescue fields in view
Electric neon butter *****
Scattered glowing beacons
Dot the greens and browns
Magnets for little hands
Tiny feet racing to keep up
A child’s laser focus
To pick and pick and pick
More and more and more
Fistfuls of joy
To tickle the nose
To share with laughter
To put in a pocket
Then nap and forget

© 2019 MJL
William Keckler Nov 2014
The field of red flowers
on white stems.
Hurry home.
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