Reflections

Reflections
The old man reflected
upon the thirty years of his work
in the fields that he loved
as much as his home.
His misty, grey eyes floated up to the wings of the huge birds
that would bring eggs of death.
Fields that once grew
marvelous crops of wheat with hues of gold would vanish.
He turned reluctantly and started down
the road to a long bridge
where his future would start again.
His old dog walked slowly by his side.
Behind him he left his past,
his soon to be barren fields.
Their new crops, for a new farmer
would be a lifetime of a war and hunger away.