Spring Field

A poem by Isabelle Sorrells

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Driving along a lonely road

I came across a golden land.

It stuck out against the blue above and the brown below

And I found myself stopping the car

And wandering to the edge

Where gravel and tar met fields of young suns.

I witnessed a hand emerge from the saffron ocean

Beckoning me forward –

Luring me in.

I stepped into that delicate vibrance,

Then I ran,

To be surrounded

By spring itself,

With nature’s soft lace to cushion my fall.

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