In a Field, In a Dream

In a Field, In a Dream
by Keaton Foster



In a field,
In a dream,
There.
So, it seems,
So, it may be.
A rose,
Brightest red,
Not dead,
Alive,
Growing wild.
Man
Is this child
Walking alone.
The path before,
Quite dark.
Way ahead,
A future.
Not so far behind,
A past,
Trying to escape
One step at a time.
All around,
There are trees,
Not green.
All below,
There is ground,
Cold, lifeless,
Spiteful.
No path is true,
No direction is fair.
But then again,
There,
In a field,
In a dream,
There.
So, it seems,
So, it may be.
A rose,
Brightest red,
Not dead,
Alive,
Like me,
Like life.
Still,
There is a chance.
Hope,
Disguised
As a growth
When nothing
Could or has ever
Grown before.
The closer I get,
Each step,
The previous darkness
Is kept
Where it has been,
Where it should be.
The pain remains,
But the closer I get,
The more I forget,
The less I regret.
Naïve is such hope,
But I feel it anyway.
Truth be told,
In some way,
Unexplained,
I know.
Understanding,
As I go,
It is because
Of that rose…


Written by Keaton Foster Copyright © 2008-2021