What fertile ground this is
in which the imagination
runs rampant
Our paths never quite
intersect through
these fields
cautious as we are
we run
in expanding
contracting
concentric
circles
while the tall grasses
brush against our
cheeks
deliver to us
whispered
caresses
yet unheard
our flight
thus
unburdened
our roots
flimsy
and not
quite attached
to earth.
narinda heng 