The field is green. So green that it blinds me,
taking over my senses with its scent.
Grass, wildflowers, heather. Pine
off in the distance. And you.
All earth and petals, brambles and silky leaves.
You run your fingers through the long fluffy tails
reaching up to your hips, a smile lingering
at the corners of your mouth.
Welcome home, you say,
and I am welcomed by a cloud of
meadow browns and common blues.