Fields of Gold

You’ll remember me when the west wind moves upon the fields of barley…

I remember that walk with my friend. We wandered aimlessly, talked aimlessly, through that field.

We had no real destination, but it was very satisfying.

We perched on a hill, gazing out at the expansive field.

“How long d’y’think it goes on?” I asked, sweeping my hand across the horizon.

My companion shrugged. “As far as our friendship, I’d say.”

“I guess that’s far?”

“Yup. Near infinate, I’d think.”

I breeze ruffled my hair. “I’m glad I said hi that day,” I mused.

“Y’know,” came the response, “I am too.”

...You’ll forget the sun in his jealous sky as we walk in the fields of gold.

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