Gently tracing your eyebrows with my finger I watch your sleeping face, observe how the breath in your lungs rises your chest and flares your nostrils just a tiny bit. I see the horizon, where the golden shimmer of the harvested field meets the blueish tint of the sky with its angry clouds. I hear the wind rustling in the trees. Turning back to your face I almost catch you peeking through your lashes and watching me in return. We lie in between a warm day and a cool evening, between sun and shadow, summer and sadness. And before I know it it's time to say farewell.