One Hundred Acres

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I used to dream of a hundred acres

Submitted: November 28, 2011

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Submitted: November 28, 2011

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I used to dream of a hundred acres,
A stream, a cabin.
Of coldest winters and lazy summers.
A wraparound porch with a rocker and a cold glass of water.
A person I have never met
With a smile like a storm breaking.
I imagined hands well worn and a quilt softer than sleep,
Grass that turned gold in the fall,
An ocean of green,
A field of snow.
I wished for a blank white page and the adventure of the everyday;
To wake when I felt like it and sleep when I wanted.
But dreams fall faster than flies
And I know what I cannot have.


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