The Field

The air is too thick in the house

perhaps a step outside will help.

A cool breeze slaps the face carrying a

scent of manure. Mmm.

Birds jetting across the sky bring back memories of great days.

Mornings in the field were early, cold, and hard.

Wet with dew and wet with sweat.

Perhaps some light yard work to help

clear the air.

The day grows long and hot.

The sun at its highest leaves an endless field of light.

Nowhere to hide from its exposure.

We are outnumbered.

Our shadows, gone.

There is no escape from this sea of

emptiness.

Sorrow and misery fills its void.

I am hiding in plain sight.

On a Sunday afternoon.

A light beer

To help with the heat.

Perhaps.

Sitting in my favorite lawnchair

I can hear the faint buzzing of a fly getting nearer.

The helicopter is coming but

where are my men?

Even louder now.

We don’t much time!

Where are my men?!

The buzzing is raging and now,

It's gone

Like everyone else

I am all alone.

“Babe!!”

“What?”

“Suppers getting cold!”

“Be right there”

Take another sip

I've been thinking too hard.

The glass feels warm to the lips as I try and cool myself down.

“You all right?”

“Yeah”

No, I cannot move.

I do not want to.

“It's getting dark!”

“I’m coming!”

The lawn chair has molded itself to me.

Stuck in a foxhole with no way out.

The clouds are setting in

the end is near.

Thunder roars in the distance

growing louder and then

a crash.

“Lights out!”

I am knocked backed

I cannot breathe

Water fills my vision and

I am cold.

I fall to the floor.

The smell of freshly cut zoysia grass clears me as it smothers my face. I open my eyes to see my wife walking away from me and the upturned lawn chair, dropping a bucket to the ground.

“Come to bed honey.”

“Okay”