Early morning
We walk out to the field of sunflowers
It lays across the road from a cornfield
Burned out skeleton of a tree on the horizon announces August
In old days
We would walk Her
She would shed Her gold in the morning light
Words that come to me are
Softness
Peace
Gift
Sense
I take photographs
He holds my coffee …
In our new days
The days without Her
He wakes me early and walk me out to the field of sunflowers
Where I watch the gold she shed glitter in the air …
