There was a mouse in the fields, watching me from the fence line. What should I do? I had no idea what to do as we looked at each other. Did he know? Did he care? Why should anyone?

There was a horse in the field, standing proud as the mouse and I shared a look of concern. He stood, chest forward as if he had something to say to both of us, but he was not going to share the secret. So what was to become of us?

On the porch, in the distant horizon, there sat an old man. He was unaware of either the horse, the mouse or I. We all knew that he didn't care but what did it matter. We lived in our own world.

So, there we all were in the field, the proud stallion, the smart mouse and I. The Sun high above and the rivers below. We never saw the blue sky for what it was because of each of us and we never drank deeply from the rivers. We never ate from the wheat at our disposal and we definately did not make friends. We kept a look out on each other.

What's the point? There is none.
Is it the blue skies or the deep rivers? Is it the stallion or the mouse or I?
Who cares. There is no worries and no wondering in the fields where we stare.