sound of summer

I stood
as if here for the first time
guided by a breeze
which had fled high hills
and I followed its brush strokes
to a line of beech trees
spilling hue like I'd never seen
grounding me to roots
as if ten thousand men
ceased their march
to all be by my side
Then below
wheat heads swayed
and mine now with them
dominoeing a wave
arms raised as if
strung puppets from the sky
and the swallows that rode the tide
that had come so far
reminded me of thoughts
childhood innocence once brought
when the world turned slow enough
to catch every dream whether missed or seen
and each excited breath became another.