Sunday, July 31, 2016

Through the Field

It was a late afternoon during a warm August day
Walking through trees and tall grass
I came across a field filled with seeding dandelions

White puffballs seemed to float above the ground
The afternoon breeze gently caressed the seen
I stood amazed, lost in the personification of forever

I was tempted to disturb the scene
To pull a single stem and release the seeds
With a belief that dreams could come true

Instead, I stood watching the dandelions sway together
Almost envious of the way they moved
Each white puff seen but a part of the field

When I saw a flash of red rise then fall below the wave
On the horizon to my right
With it, the seeds rose angrily into the wind

Leaving a chunk of empty green space
The flash of red burst diagonally across the field
Small explosions of white marking its progress

I can tell it is a fox. I am unsure if it is chasing prey
Or playing with the dandelions, enjoying the way the
Seeds fall into the wind, paratroopers of the future

The air is filled with white tomorrows
The field looks like it was hit with bombs or meteorites
The fox playing the role of both

I watch the fox move to the wooded area to my left
Leaving the field damaged in its wake
Not a care for, or even a look back

To watch the wind clear the sky of the seeds
To see the holes it left in what was once a peaceful field
It cares not for the field it just passed through

I squat down to look at the line of dandelions
I touch a single one in front of me
The head seems so perfectly round

The seeds are soft against my finger, almost tickles
I stand back up, hand empty
The field is no longer the same powerful vision

The fox’s rumpus trot made sure of that
But I couldn’t bring myself to pluck the stem from the ground
Not my place to determine the dandelion's future

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