Walking this abandoned field
Searching for something inside myself
An old shovel perhaps
Or some evidence of planted seed

I come upon a tree
Just like the one I used to climb as a boy
And lying there
My eyes roam over the frayed hatband of evening sky

This is how I used to feel loving you
As if I could kiss the moon or caress the sky
How sweet the air smelled then
Like rain in Nebraska after a field was plowed
Now all I can see is this tree
And the memory of how high we once climbed