Wednesday Scribbles

Eyes closed, I felt today’s wind.
I opened my eyes to see
a field of tall weeds surrounding me.
Yellow and white blooms.
Wild grains, bobbing, nodding off
under this breeze that made me sway
as if that air was composed of wine.
The grass kept time, and I hoped
they would never fall to the mower,
damn allergies, damn their unrelenting growth.
Let them live forever, and when we cannot stand
any longer, may this wind pick us up
and plant us in a better place where our roots
will curl out on new soil, and we will dance
on the floor of our next home.

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