late summer hay

🌾

late summer hay

and early spring grass

the end of our beginnings

the start of a thing that lasts

we held hands and told stories

and explored lots of life’s lessons

we rushed around in no hurry

to collect some worthless possessions

we gave them meaning, something special just between us

and then came the intervening, something pulling apart our trust

we should have swatted it away, like the flies in the hay

but we thought we’d lose our footing, so instead we stopped our play

it was easy to separate, perhaps a sign of the distance that was always there

but if that were truly the case, then why can i still feel your glare

those eyes that cut right through me, like our sticks in the sand

writing our little messages, that we knew would not stand

and reminiscing on it all, the energy that we spent

i often think about if i knew the present, then how the past would’ve went

but maybe i did, just not out loud

the possibility of the end, never got voiced in the crowd

the crowd of laughter, the crowd of joy

the crowd of thunder, from our moments of coy

because being with you, wasn’t always about forever

maybe it was just about the hay, in warm late september