Drawn to wide open spaces
in the middle of the day
the sun uneclipsed
saturates the grass with green
child connects with leaves
one at a time
the soccer field manicured
remnants of autumn
obliterated to the woods
nevertheless these stains
of brown hold attraction
some standing like trees
ready for the child
to pluck like some giant
and carry as trophy
for tromping this far so big
unintentionally crunching
to brittle dust in her fingers
she hands to me as I show
how the breeze reclaims them
in a sad parabola to the ground
she moves on to the next one
Joshua Keiter 