The sun beckoned me up
Through the close knit trees
     On a narrow trail
          To see the golden field.
Up on the hill
The grass was pressed down
     Green
          Tangled
               Grabbing my feet
Begging me to stay and sit
Like those who had before me.
Butterflies fluttered
Around the peaks of
     Orange
          Purple
               Flowers.
Nothing could possibly capture
What I was
     Seeing
          Feeling.
Nothing could capture
     The sun
          Beating down
Causing sweat to build
On the back of my neck.
     The webs
          Tickling my arms
Invisible and without a host.
     Winged bugs
          Zipping around
As if there were somewhere
They needed to be.
     Red beetles
          Crawling up
               and down stems
I tried to avoid.
Nothing
     Could possibly capture
          How the golden sun
               Made the golden field
                    Glow.