The Field

It's Poetics at dVerse, and Grace has
challenged us to write of WHEAT,
which took me to a magic place.
Submitted to dVerse
August 25, 2020
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I walked the wheat field at dusk, azure skies dimming into evening. 

Perhaps I wandered farther than I thought, but it seemed a mist settled
over the golden grain and I had entered a Brigadoon, a lilt of
song and laughter far away.  I turned to find the mist surrounded
what seemed an alternate universe, and my homeward path lay
beyond the mist.  Becalmed, the cares of my world a distant memory
I sat amidst this paradise and counted the stars as they appeared one
by one, and the harvest moon  rose high in the sky. I remember naught
til I awoke at dawn, rested and bemused, my path to home before me.
Walk among the nodding heads of ripened wheat, my friend.  You too
may encounter magic.