It’s beautiful, this field,
With grass as high as your knees.
Soft and green
Swaying gently in a breeze
As warm as my love’s embrace.
We met here as children.
In the end she’d be my wife.
We trampled flowers, frightened birds
And swore eternal love to life
And each other.
Twelve years later we returned,
Twice as old and just as free.
She wanted to make love,
And I fell to one knee
And told her to wait a bit longer.
The wedding came, intimate,
With guests totaling eleven.
It rained and we cried
In joy, in love, in heaven.
There was a rainbow before the sunset.
I return sixty years later
Driving down the road unpaved.
It rains again as I kneel
And lay a flower on her grave
In the field that is us.
The Daily Travesty 