Their tails coil in a field where there is no wind, <br />no sound, no breath. We call this nature, <br />long after it has died, risen as fields full of wheat <br />sown for no one. I could walk forever without you <br />so I will, but today you follow me, <br />serenade a secret tale in my long lost ear. <br />I have heard it before, have told this song <br />to go away and for you to never play it again. <br />Yet again you play, so I must listen, <br />you give me no choice so I deliriously obey. <br />Such is life, I am told how creatures multiply <br />in a field of my imagining. Their shrieks bathed in moonlight <br />again and again and again. For this, all this, <br />I do not sleep. Have been told to count <br />what I do not see. I am counting intangibles <br />for you here, and I there.<br /><br />MARINA GIPPS<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/imaginary-field-mice/
