Ode to Lost Lands

Snowy mountains define the northern border

Blue waters flow through the town like 

Clouds form animals and shapes

His delicate hands place a seed

Over the leveled fields

Rolling through the mountains

A small paddy shoots up—

A small seedling sprouted, an idea anew

Like my Grandfather

Who’s always wished

To go past his town

Where he will roam, 

Far from home

Lucas Lee