yesterday i picked a rose.it was red and greenand old, i suppose.i held it in my handi brought it to my nose.it brought me to an open fieldwith grass so greenand skies so blueand to the sunlight my eyes did yield.i walked into that field.i came upon a little creekwith fish and butterfliesand my shoes did leakwhen i crossed to the other side.my knees felt weeki lie there looking at the skyi wish i could stay there for a whilemy reverie came to an end.it was so beautiful.i looked at the rose and smiled.