Before the sun sets,
the prairie grass lights up
as if it’s going to burn forever.
I wish it would burn forever.
I wish the soft, orange-pink hue
would stay past this time.
The warmth of the sun seeps into each blade
while the fire continues to burn.
Burning brighter as the moment lingers,
I know that it will fade, like it always does,
back to how it used to be.