And We Listen
By Tilly H
Stay with me here,
Enchanting blood red poppies,
Grass as itchy as grandma’s sweater,
Dance and sway below us,
Look up,
The clouds walk respectfully across the sky,
Alone,
Me and you,
Blue turns to black,
Light turns to dark,
The past passes through us,
And we listen,
Soundless, speechless,
In a field full of poppies.