Fox on a Boat

Shared with Poets United Attempt at a prose poem. Ireland, again.. Blue mountains spread in the distance, a place where the keys are hiding. Silently I watch them. They stretch under the sun and under rolling clouds, puffed with pride. There I feel your presence would be felt, and I wish I could travel the earthy paths too, smelling the Fresh grassy air and touching skies. I'd pick a wildflower and examine it in my palm. I'd let the wind tangle my hair. I couldn't go, though, and it remains a mystery to me, much information waiting to be uncovered. I couldn't fix it, yet.