follow her

follow her 

across the fields of sweet peas 

scattered in pinks and reds 

among the meadow of green

she hides away 

along the winding roads of Los Osos 

the wild poppy forest 

where you can remember 

days of running barefoot in cool grass 

decorating brunette braids 

with the wildflowers of youth 

and the clouds kissed each other 

before it rained 

follow her 

before it’s too late

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