A simple plea flashed, “Come with me.”
The sky broke and I began to.
I drove in on roads that ran the backside of what I know, deeply know. All the same landforms seen from another side, I was home and at once abroad.
Gathering clouds whispered, “I will cover you.”
Goldenrod, Now’s scepter, roared with their liony heads, “Relent.”
Spiced straw, rust red and leggy, carpeted my entrance.