Forests and hills roll on for miles,
To the left, my neighbor's car rolls down our shared gravel road,
He's off to work.
We wave, Goodbye!
The bird's nest on the windowsill is empty,
The chicks learned how to fly during the night.
I sigh, Goodbye!
Sometimes the grass looks like cat fur,
Soft, blowing in the breeze,
The glass is cold from the frost outside.
I pull a blanket more tightly around my shoulders.
I wonder,
What lies beyond these grassy hills?
Will I ever be the one to say, Goodbye!
?
I like the comparison of the grass to cat fur and the closing question so many of us have probably asked ourselves...
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