Asleep in a field
Asleep at the wheel
Steven Slumbers nods away…..
Thinks not of black
Or what of might be
Always asleep, asleep in the hay.
Always asleep. Asleep in the hay…..always asleep…..sleeping…. As it is, from where he came, Steven stands alone at a podium in the middle of a vast wheat field. A teleprompter on the other side of tinted glass illuminates rapidly scrolling words inviting him to speak….. “What’s the point? No one wills to listen.”
On the horizon, endless fields of wheat blur into an infinite swath of blue. Blue sky, nothing but blue sky stalls above his giant soft bed of golden wheat….Steven’s now back home….forever alone…. asleep in the hay.