I Remember the Fields

A poem about the loss of land

I remember the fields, 

those that swayed like waves

moved by the Moon. 

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I remember the fields, 

that lay flattened by the sleep

of beasts I could not see. 

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I remember the fields,

fenced by rusty barbed-wire 

that tied me to days before me. 

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I remember the fields,

for kisses, naps

and watching the clouds. 

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I remember the fields,

where we ran, hid, 

picnicked and peed. 

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I remember the fields,

but if they are all gone, 

can anyone truly 

remember me?