The field

burtschipsburtschips Posts: 734
edited November 2008 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
Sitting high up on shoulders, in a field with a belt of beeches and oaks that wrapped up the corners of the universe, he looked over to the horses standing in profile in the faraway distance. They were calling to him and he did not forget.

He'd go back one day, with friends, and they found the horses and they went on towards everything unknown. They made it beyond even the colourful family who lived between the here and now and anything else that could exist, before being scolded back to safety under a blanket of frantic relief.

New adventures would come again because now they had the taste for it and sitting on the bank the girl watched the two boys floating across a watery chasm from one swaying corn blinded world to the next. Would they make it across this abyss and would they ever really return?

Later, when he'd sit sometimes angry and even momentarily bitter, this would all still be there. Of course, it would always be there, and new adventures and possiblities and wonders would still be around the next bend, only just out of sight.
Salut baloo
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