The green grass piled up high,
as the wind whispered, "go in."
The birds and bugs raced to get food.
While horns of trucker's talk to each other.
Closing my eyes traffic talked behind me,
while the wind lifts me off my feet.
Strolling though the jungle of grass,
the wood chips sink me in like quick sand,
while the grass pull me back.
Breaking free,
there are giant trees
and a bright sun,
reflecting from the pond.

Submitted by Cindy, St. Paul, MN