The field was plowed, dirt turned over; fresh after a long winter’s lockdown. Hail and snow, long into spring makes the harvest uncertain.

My husband is gone, Sealed himself up, cocooning Any love, affection Like I’ll live in a desert Then never ask for the rain.

The earth was muddy, My boots let impression by Your silent summer grave, I said goodbye long ago, We departed with the sun.

My mare was running. Leading the herd towards me Like life could not wait Yet, they live in the moment I forget the pain I feel.