Field work

The grass on the field has been mowed To my eyes and senses it's lovely Buttercups still cluster near hedges It smells beautiful Birds are singing that little bit more chirpily The dog however is furious Every time I look at him he gives me the side eye I know he hasn't fallen out with me as I've had a full quota of cuddles And I know it's not the long weekend anymore too In my head I'm having fictional conversations Which actually is just self sabotage So maybe it's me he's trying to subtly cue Actually we are now on the next field The mower is still out He just doesn't like mowers And isn't a psychologist at all