Chasing Butterflies

Your blond hair flies in the wind, catching the sunlight as you dash through the field. I give chase, the soft earth yielding beneath my feet, until my fingers brush your back. You burst into laughter, throwing yourself to the ground in exaggerated defeat. Rolling in the grass, your body a blur of motion, blades clinging to your hair and shirt as laughter fills the air. In an instant, you're up again, eyes bright with mischief. This time, you’re off chasing butterflies, your tiny hands outstretched, free.

Damon Yeargain​