Holiday at altitude

 Afternoon in Cunha 19 of April.
Sunny picturesque cloud surrounds the far hills.
Eyes always seek somewhere else to be.
But just be here in this grass.
In this hobby rolling holiday headspace.

But there it is again a far off forest.
A house on the side of the hill.
Distracting the immediate blue.
Westerly comes in conspiring with autumn shade.
I would like to know myself after a thousand years of existence.

I see these hours and days floating away...
I see the way the sun mocks me in the sky like that.
He knows he'll stay active and potent for eons.
The westerly bites again I put my jacket on.
There's some magical place for each nostalgic notion.