It is the wheatfields that keep coming back, <br />always sticking out behind the pines, <br />beyond the mountains, <br />in the sunsets. <br /> <br />Nostalgia of clear light <br />and greyhounds of long shadows. <br /> <br />Those memories chasing me <br />smell of dry soil recovering life, <br />wheat in the springtime, <br />fidelity to plains.<br /><br />Luis Gil de la Puente<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/1-nostalgia-of-the-plains/
