I saw a tractor throwing dark earth, and
A field of cosmos—pink, purple, white.
I saw a hedge, large and tall and perfectly green, notched at the top like a castle,
And a grave with balloons on it.
I saw a small, black travel bus with the words “my party bus”
In chunky white letters across one end.

Rows of perfectly spaced deciduous trees at a nursery wore fall colors, and
Weeds decorated the aisles between.
Neon-green skeletons perched on a wire fence,
And a navy-blue Tesla followed me for miles.
I crossed a mirror-still river,
And passed under two branches, touching
Like outstretched fingertips above me.

I saw tractor-crossing signs, deer-crossing signs, political signs, and
Line after line of baby trees and shrubs, only a foot tall,
Every shadow in perfect formation across groomed dirt rows.
I saw horses swishing their tails,
And clouds, dressed for a slumber party.

I saw metal buildings, colored by rust, and
Old, wooden farm buildings painted rust-red.
I saw a stream in an overgrown meadow,
Water profuse with delicate, floating plants.
I saw pumpkins combed into rows—no vines, just orange fruit for acres,
And the long shadows of a fall afternoon.