The Love of Keeping Home

Friday, August 10, 2012

The fields reflect the farmer's spring efforts.
Their dedication lay wake upon the warm summer's sun.
She passes these flat portions of land.
Wind rows pull at her. She remembers bailing the alfalfa into hay bails as a child.
She remembers the long sultry afternoons pent up in the tractor.
A lifetime ago.

Her 4x4 continues along the long straight path made of hills and windmills.
To the right rests the small town in which she shares so many memories.
Ahead lies her roots.

 The mound of trees calls her.
There, the swing set once set. To the right was the willow tree she'd spend her late afternoons in.
Below is the hill she'd escape to. Lost in the sage. Time ago.

Today she is lost in time. Is it then she finds solace? Is it those memories that hold her down?
Is this the foundation in which she longs to solidify?
This the basis of her life?
These memories the root in which takes hold of her tomorrow?
The wakes break against the sides of the rocks.

Passing through the collage of trees and shrubbery, she sets her sights ahead.
She crosses the ever familiar river with it's boats and jet skiis.
The tan bridge takes her across as she loses herself in floods of thoughts.
The wakes brake against the steep rocks.

The valley's dawn breaks. She can see the skyline from the ridge.
The exit takes her through the sad of society. The sick, the hungry, the ridden.
Her 4x4 makes a right onto the hill. Across the bridge she heads along the straight.
Where is she going? Where is she headed? Is this destination of her sunrise? The sun that shall set in her skies morning? There the sunrise stood. With that smile. With that debonair expression. That stance. Those eyes. The tension overlooked. The lust between the sweet, seductive passing glances. He grabs her in his dark strong arms. The heat from within intoxifies her. She becomes the epitome of what could be. She this woman of sad. Now a woman of worth.

What does it all mean? Is this the feeling she is meant to embrace? She asks herself if she deserves these holes in his words. Are they true? This amazing it too much? Or is this reality of kindness and sincerity? Qualities yet not known. Falling down.

She's carried through the dark. She's left with her thoughts. She's never going home.
Home with it's meaning. Home with it's opinions and obligations.
Say good bye. Don't follow. Her misery so hollow. Thanks Layne.

Thanks for reading with me :)