I Stood.Feet on the floor. Perilous. Before me. The Empty Field. Brown. Dirty. Barren.  The wheat had goneIts whispy movementA memory echo of a beautiful summer.  I pined its lossFor weeks. Complaining thereWas nothing to seeAt sunset. Except clouds.  Empty. Empty field. I stoodYet. Now. This moment. This evening.  Tears… Continue reading