the open field before us
was a tall grass of a butternut yellow
it swayed in the breeze liquid almost alive
she lead me forward
calling back to me over her shoulder
with a broad smile
the sun caught in her hair
but her smile overwhelms the sunlight
and she remained to me within sight
as the rest of the world fell to the amusements of the stars
the air full of a false summer
she laughed at such an idea
and told me it was but yet mid-winter
and soon the snow will fly
gentle on its own goodnight path
of histories fallen and left obscured
in a single torn photograph
she leads me on
casting glances and bittersweet smiles back at me
this is your last road she calls out
and she is the gentle soul come to bring me to rapture
she is the love i never knew
the one that fell by the wayside one terrible night
so long ago its very fragments are nearly forgotten to me
but those fragments cherished
in a single time battered photograph
her blue grey eyes haunting
this is my last road
she is heaven
i am home