This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Oxford Emory chapter.
Emerald blades of grass tickle the crook of my neck
As I turn my head to admire glistening beads
Coating each stem with a silver charm.
The chitter of jittery squirrels scampering across the field
Disturbs the tranquil earthworm’s journey underground.
The sun finally makes its way over head, beaming proudly.
I am beyond this life now.