Changing

I sat at the top

And it felt like it,

I could see everything.

Looking down

It all looked fake,

Like it really 

couldn’t be there,

The rolling hills

Stretched for miles

To the distance

Until they were gray with haze

Until they decided to become 

Sky.

The red, yellow, and green

Broken off into blue and white.

The hills

Sometimes interrupted

By fields of green

Sometimes interrupted

By little dots.

Closer

Was the place

And were the places

That have always been close.

Beautiful against the colors.

And that was when I realized

Why there is a flood each autumn.