Poetry

The Meadow

Be Safe, Don’t Do That

On summer nights, when the moist air cools the day’s heat there is only one place I ever want to be “Where are you?” my mother’s voice over the phone is calm but stern “Are you being foolish in the meadow again?” she presses She never understood what I might find while surveying the field — or what might find me

“Look at you! You’re covered in dirt!” she exclaims as clouds of brown fog fill the air “Don’t play with your food” she tells me “You’ll lose your appetite”

She and everyone else in the neighborhood always warning me about walking in the meadow “Be safe” “Don’t do that” “The meadow will consume you” “The meadow will eat you alive” they all say

I still walk in the meadow though “This isn’t for you” they tell me I don’t care what’s true

This is my life I will not relent This isn’t for you It’s for me

I learned to breathe steadily in the meadow In and out

It’s a lonely field with so much to see The meadow won’t consume me The meadow will exhume me

I’m walking in the meadow now “The meadow will eat you alive” If it wills it, let it

When I was a kid, I was curious I would spend hours in the meadow staring at the moon but I never understood how close it really was Tears on my face and hate in my heart, there I was

In the meadow Battling it out and winning People still tell me “Don’t walk in the meadow” I tell them “I live in the meadow”