Here is a Field
Here is a field
where dandelions grow,
where silver sails
when breezes blow.
Here is a field
where butterflies feed,
lying their eggs
on the nettles they need.
Here is a field
where rabbits may run
out of the burrows
and into the sun.
Here is a field
where I may lie
in gangling grass
and gaze at the sky.
Celia Warren