by Beulah Vega
A beautiful lane snakes past the hill,
That separates it from the azure sea.
White, flower-bedecked fence posts run along beside,
Keeping bucolic cows and sheep to their pasture,
Allowing myself and the lane,
the freedom to wander alone.
A figure appears at the top of the hill
Silhouetted in the late afternoon
Of the drowning sun.
Who can say what lead this curious visitor
On this particular day
Over the brown summer fields,
to this lane unknown to them,
Though they had lived nearby fora very longtime.
As they step onto the thin ribbon of asphalt and gravel,
The overly plump cows look up for a moment,
At this interloper of their tranquility,
Give a gentle call and go back to their grazing.
Somewhere a dove or pigeon coos
Looking for its lover, or looking for its dinner.
The figure walks on
Following where the lane disappears over the hill.
I follow behind,
Quietly and quickly just another
Of the lengthening shadows
filling the lane.
The lane ends abruptly
At a wrought iron gate,
Standing sentinel to a fruitful farm,
Older than the lane itself.
The lone figure
perhaps sensing me behind
Quickens their pace through the gate
And knocks on the bright green door.
I watch concealed in gathering gloom as the door opens
Spilling warm yellow light and a rosy-cheeked child
Out at the stranger’s feet.
An exuberant hello is called,
And soon the Farmers wife appears at the cheery doorstep
Wiping flour on her apron and smiling with all of her teeth.
Introduction are exchanged,
Lemonade is offered,
An invitation is accepted,
And as the sun sets slowly over the rolling hills,
The lone figure enters the old house
That suddenly ceases to exist.
In its place a rusted wrought iron gate,
Gives way to barren fields
Lined with broken stones and dry weeds.
I hurry toward the gate,
Knowing that I too must get inside,
Before the gate and lane also dissolve into the ether,
My mother has invited company,
and it’s time to eat.
Beulah Vega is a writer and theater artist living in the North Bay Area of California. Her short stories have been published by Weasel Press, Fae Corps, Two Morbid Ladies publishing and her poetry has been featured in the Bay Area WTF Festival as well as the CPAC Dead Poets Society festival. She will also be featured in an upcoming episode of the Line 720 podcast for her short story “Oh Sweetie.” On Twitter @ByronWhoKnew, on Instagram @ByronWhoKnew.
