Dry Golden

(This is one of the few old poems of mine I still have, maybe 2008, not sure. All the others were lost)

Far away I remember the fields,

Dry golden,

Days when the corn was taller than us,

And we trampled the crop to make rooms,

Sometimes naked,

Ah such is life.

And later the fields were gone,

Houses and rooms,

Cars and roads,

And we were not innocent,

The golden dry rooms,

And the sunshine.

And later the desire has gone,

Once we wanted so much.