My Property

The towering, tall trees drifting in the wind, 

The cool breeze flowing in every direction, 

The cold dam that gets warmer the deeper you go. 

The warm fire,  

Where we roast marshmallows, 

The white smudge of paint on a black canvas called space, 

The tiny whitey, yellowy dots in the dark blue sky. 

The old rusty sheds, 

The cold breeze flying through my hair, 

The cloudy sky, 

The car prints in the cold sticky mud. 

The clear blue sky with just a yellow M&M that’s been glued there by a 2-year-old, 

The tree's branches stretch tall and wide, 

The killer sheep chasing me, Apriena and Olivia on my 10th birthday. 

The property I live on, is what I love.