Backroad Thinking

I said I wanted to be free
And so I was contained in a car
Smooth leather and febrees
As we drove up the dirt road
Tires tracking through the mud
I was able to look and really see
Cows with calm faces
And soft sweet eyes
That looked through you
That looked at you
Brown patches patterned their noses
And I knew I was there
But I wanted to really be
Standing in that endless field
Green as far as the eye can see
I could not find the other side of the chipping fence
And I always liked long grass
I imagined for a second
A happy second
That I too could be munching lazily
My baby sitting beside me
And I imagined the grass to be dripping with dew drops
As my feet felt the wet ground
Even the ticks that hitched a ride would have a great time
Back to the car ride
The clouds could not choose a color
The orange seemed rather sad and said
“We did not plan to be pink”
But the pink was too proud to change
I was too busy smiling at this exchange to remember
That the world was still turning
And the car was still moving
The car should have known
Or maybe my mother
That we needed to turn around
Still she put miles between the field and me
That’s when I knew I’d never be free
At least not truly