Dry Fields
Sitting, no standing, but better yet laying down,
Sickness has turned my upside down into a pain-full frown,
Pain that is caused by a façade I have worn to long
Like the many, many, many other, other clowns
You see, but you don't
Unless like me, you have not worn that coat,
The coat that wears, when buttoned up, hides your suit
Strutting along, Strutting along
I remember the horses, strong and majestic
Out in the fields where life was so simplistic,
Eat the grass, the straw and feed
I could only gaze at that perfect breed
What have I done?
My coat is now worn, buttons missing
I feel ashamed of what I have become
I only think now of needle and thread but it's too late
Since my last visit to the farm
The horses were all gone
Green replaced with dirt
Water stagnate, algae, mosquito ridden
The same coat I wore
I now lay down and reminess its former lore
I was right that laying down was the right thing to do
In the dry field.
Christopher Edward Zewinski
10.30.2021
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem