My Mind Was Left To Think About

"dust scent through cold trampled field whilst butterflies hung by their wings to dry" - 'Time lost all realism' I've surveyed the road from 'time' to 'time' and saw Savoir-Vivre. I will never be that woman; I've tied goats by 'their' necks in meadows 'to' graze and went home without remorse. I still let my purpose wandered, 'lost,' like a panic, or like the 'flies' that 'buttered' the 'wings' of airplanes to hijack rides to where they are blown as 'dust' into 'Realism.' At dawn, I milked cows just beyond the 'trampled' green, found 'butter' and called the vet to check for cancer. This is realism. We've sung songs 'by Eve,' then I 'dried' up and was BLOWN AWAY. ... and when the 'cold' came 'through' the legs of the trees, I became a 'Roper,' catching Autumn's 'scents' which is 'hung' up on waiting, and 'whilst' it lingers in these 'fields,' ... ... I stole a quote from Eve Roper. That is 'all' I did. (Note: the first and second stanza of the poem are from Eve Roper's poem, "Time lost all realism." The third stanza is the title of the poem. I have used all the words in the lines and title in my poem ... and I confess to what I did).