I long for the mountains
To be higher than the clouds themselves
To be able to look down and see birds soaring
To be so close to the purple sky
That it's like I can touch it
Paint it myself, even
I wanna go
To the mountains
Trek paths that the animals made
To sit beside a conifer tree
And watch
The sky
And the people
So far down
I want to go to the mountains
Somewhere far from these farms and fields
Somewhere high up
And away from this town
Somewhere where
This town,
These people
Can no longer reach me
YOU ARE READING
Leaving Behind the Endless Fields of Corn and Soybeans
PoetryEveryone has that one place in their heart. The two will always be connected, whether they love that place, or hate that place. My place? My town? I love it, I hate it. I've left it behind. This collection of poetry is about the place, the town, tha...
