past year's

in half a reflection
i see past years become pastures

because of the long fields
we pass each week,
a variety, changing always.
i nearly mentioned seasons,

in Ohio changing fields are endless.

now in march, looking around it seems forever cold.
this year, last year, the years before that.
now the end of winter we're between seasons,
nothing definite. one not gone,
the new not underway.

in a week or few we'll be in warm,
let that seem forever, always warm.
ah...the satisfaction.
that'll go nicely in the pastures.
with wheat, goats, cows, horses and corn.
all the way.