If I were there,
I'd run through the grass and flowers,
Not caring how foolish I'd look,
Playing like a wild child in summertime.
If I were there,
We could just look up at the sky,
Talking about anything and everything,
As friends like to do.
If I were there,
It would probably feel like a dream,
Never having gone that far north before,
Never having breathed the air up there.
If I were there,
It might be hard to come back to the humidity,
But the glassy sea of familiarity,
Would eventually summon me home.
About the Creator
Rowan Finley
Father. Academic Advisor. Musician. Writer. My real name is Jesse Balogh.
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Comments (1)
Aww, Makes me want to run barefoot through a meadow and just exist, having fun and act like fool and no one out there to judge.