standing outside on a steep rolling hill
amongst hills that the eye can see
the sun dancing on hilltops
to acknowledge their presence to the world

my boots sinking into the mud
a rock stabbing the backside of my boot
creating a little hole
the light breeze on my heel

the horses galloping across
the valleys below
the morning dew creating rainbows
as they run by

a wave of corn and grass 
tickling against my nose
as an open bottle of bourbon
sits ready at the table for a taste

Kentucky
the place that i love
the place i can breathe
the place that i call home