illusions

i don't want

to live on a farm.

i have no desire to own

livestock,

or work that hard,

but i like to slow

down

when i'm driving by

a red barn

with a long wooden

fence around it.

i like to hear

the wind chimes on

the front

porch

of farmhouses.

i enjoy looking at

the yellow tractors,

and old

trucks

parked along the dirt

road.

the rust and oil in

the air.

the smell of cut wood

burning

in a chimney.

there's the illusion of

an idyllic

life going on.

fresh cold milk.

hard work, and family.

i like illusions.