We walked through the scene of a farmscape calendar.

One snapshot could capture

a blue sky with touches of faraway cloud,

crouched in the distance, close to the horizon.

 

Ahead: a long straight road with little traffic.

Long grass swept the countryside around us;

a coarse, dry ocean filling the space.

 

Gaze a little longer, 

Watch a little more carefully,

And see a little more. 
 

The clouds were grey,

like distant ash

parching my throat from afar.

As the heat wore away at me

it was a beautiful Summer's day.

As I slowly burned

it was a long, peaceful walk

in the middle of nowhere

and my throat pleaded for water.

 

The road ahead was covered in scars:

marks of dangerous driving,

and entire chunks missing.

 

Together we walked,

speaking very little,

hand in hand.

He was happy.

I was not.