Dozing in Warm Hay

Innumerable sights are lost in the billowing of dust storms, as one races down a country road. I find more pleasure in the rising insignificant puffs of dust as my footfalls disrupt the earth. The ultimate destination on walks such as these can be found beyond a pasture of cows, past a warren of rabbits, and at the crest of a hill, whose view encompasses miles of emerald and golden countryside. My brother Justin and I fell in love with the tiny herd of goats that lives there. We whiled away countless summer days trekking out to visit our hilltop inhabiting friends. Many carrots, laughs, bleats, and smiles were shared. This haiku is a memory and emotion, summoned out of time, and the hazy heat of a season past. It is the welcoming of a new friend, the quiet anticipation of new beginnings, and the eternal warmth of a summer remembered.