November
2007
Field
I can feel Time flowing by
without touching,
water flowing around a bubble.
The clouds trundle overhead,
their shadows ticking over me.
Even the sunlight seems to be slower.
Bees drone lazily in the young clover,
roaring by my head as they
inspect my ears for nectar.
Grass tickles the nape of my neck,
and something spiky crawls over my hand –
I try not to think what. I try not to think at all.
I surface hearing a steady crescendo
through the earth,
and brace myself
as my dog’s cold triumphant nose hits my face
and the panting culprit collapses, grinning, by my side.
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