Welcome Visitor: Login to the siteJoin the site

The big, grassy roundels put my soul at ease.

Submitted:Jul 26, 2011    Reads: 16    Comments: 4    Likes: 2   

Every time I look at

baled hay, a smile curls

up my face, and turns into

a wide, joyous grin.

I don't even know why,

the tall, heavy clumps,

the sweetly dry scent of

warmth and life-giving.

Sometimes, you can't explain,

and it just doesn't matter.


| Email this story Email this Poetry | Add to reading list


About | News | Contact | Your Account | TheNextBigWriter | Self Publishing | Advertise

© 2013 TheNextBigWriter, LLC. All Rights Reserved. Terms under which this service is provided to you. Privacy Policy.