Yesterdays

Tranquil mornings breath breathes above the million blades of grass with a frosty aftermath

The meadows roll almost to eternity where they finally reach the pink sunset

I passed these fields only yesterday taking no notice of their beauty, only thought of where I'd be next

Now I lay in my unsuspecting, most unfortunate destination

Dreaming of these fields and meadows

I can appreciate them now.

Hallucinating ghosts of yesterdays visit me:

There the pack of wolves running against the dense forest; they protect me in the prairie

Stampeding mustangs on the barren cold field as my life slips away and blood seeps from my chest

Squirrels and rabbits under the bed; I can't see

The three dead prophets who tell me I'll be okay.