Life in the Blue Patches
A few lone trees separate this field from the next,
A narrow extension of the forest, a finger,
tall and dark against the sunset. Everything
almost black and white, save for a small patch
You have sat in this spot for hours.
Feeling, more than watching, the sun move
from horizon to horizon. Reading poetry
and the bible in equal measure. Staring
across the fields you were formed in, waiting
now for the dark.
About this poem.
It started with the idea of dreading the point when I am no longer strong enough to battle my depression. But while writing, I came to the realization that I have already won the war, so much of my life reclaimed already. Life and love that would have been lost.
I live in the blue patches.
The picture was taken in Surry County, Va., on what was once my Grandfather’s farm.