Mired in stagnant air,

no direction, no cares,

listless leaves,

aimless birds,

no one sings,

clouds mill.

Another day like all the others,

fruitless, pointless.

Lost time,

discarded carelessly.

Seized by the moment,

intensity wells,

an acidic spring fills the room.

I can’t breath.

Slowly sinking,

Bubbles rising,

chasing the light.

The barn is quiet.

Amber rays filled with dust,

dancing near a window pane.

A pig grunts.

Chickens strut closer,

hoping for grain.

Corn is scattered in the hay.

The pig looks up,

distrusting, yet curious.

I stay away,

from the untamed swine.

I walk to the field,

watching cows graze in the lush grass.

Black bodies amble in unison,

toward the fence.

Wet noses greet me, tails swish.

Scratching their heads.

I wince at their misguided trust,

yet admire them for it.

To me, they are friends,

to others, they are meat.

My grandfather scolds me,

for being too attached.

I know the outcome.

The eventual heartbreak.

And each visit, I count them,

fearing there will be one less.

Ice cream sold by a street vendor,

Giggling with friends,

licking the frozen milk,

while the golden sun touches our cheeks.

Together we are invincible,

running, biking, laughing until dusk,

when the streetlights flicker on,

then we rush home,

to baths and bedtime stories.

Alone with family,

safe under the covers,

my mother tucks me in,

turns off the light.

With naive eyes,

I stare through window,

at the infinite night,

filled with twinkling stars,

that grant secret wishes,

blessing an imagined future life.

Sleep beckons,

but I resist,

fearing I might not return,

to this childhood dream

of love and bliss.