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