Mother and Daughter

Pebbles crunch underfoot, echoing through the pine trees.

The summer sun peels my skin in hot layers.

Bees waltz, collecting ambrosia, as dragonflies zip, shy of the humans.

The cows stomp through the tall, dry grass, weaving through pseudo-Viking bones.

The daughter clings to her mother from the sound of a camera shutter; an outstretched fist of weeds not quite her taste.

Please don’t let our presence frighten you, wide-eyed calf,

we simply want to watch you scratch your nose on the tree trunks!