An amber field of barley blew,
And in that field I thought of you.
I thought of you, and as I lay,
The barley brushed my tears away.
I climbed a sprawling sycamore
To watch a bird, and wished to soar
As high as it, so I could see
Your face outside my memory.
Inside a dim lit sepulchre
I scraped away the mounded earth
That held your form, which clasped my heart
That died when we were torn apart.
I took you from that eerily
Familiar tomb, and past the tree
That led to where an amber field
Had long, my sorrows, all concealed.
Your lifeless body came to rest
Against my barely breathing chest;
And as I died I thought of you--
Around us amber barley blew.
Travis Shillington
17-5-07
