I stared at the field,
and it stared at me.
Barren and muddy with the coming spring-
it seemed to expose its bones.
Bones of white tree
and flesh of pale gold-
it seemed to scowl at me in spite.
The ground bled from where the weather had broke it.
Bitter and angry tears fell from the heavens-
A blushing cheek for me to see this venerability.
The earth sucked greedily at my feet with its substance-
making me struggle in my own boots, laughing when I tripped.
It was mean, yet complex, and I seen virtue in it.
It drew me in, it made me familiar.
Our hearts  slowed down and something from my chest fell to my knees;
And sometimes, I just stared at it, and it just stared at me.