What I caught I caught in Korea. I didn’t have it when I was in China. I had a bit of it when I was in the States for the holidays last year but it didn’t last. By the time I got back to China, I had left the States and so had it. For two years, at least two years, probably many more, I didn’t have it or even an inkling of it. It was gone. There was none of it to be found. I was on empty. I was running on empty, talking on empty, walking on empty. I was empty. Empty all over and it must of showed because she was gone. She was long gone. She wasn’t coming. She wasn’t calling. She wasn’t walking around my courtyard or strolling around my countryside.
I had cows grazing my no-longer-green-hills, but I didn’t have her watering or frolicking up and down and around those hills. I didn’t have her anywhere near my hills. And what’s the point, the bigger point, the lasting point, the longer point, the pretty point, the pretty terrific point of having hills if she weren’t coming to run around my hills, because she wasn’t. She wasn’t coming and she wasn’t running and she wasn’t kicking and she wasn’t dancing around those hills. She wasn’t doing anything anywhere near my hills. And those hills were barren and breathless for far too long. Those hills couldn’t have lasted much longer.
Luckily, they didn’t have to because I was coming home. I wasn’t coming home to water my hills or till my hills or weed my hills. I was coming home because it was time to come home. It was time to get back. It was time to run and walk and stroll back and the longer I strolled, the lighter I strolled, the more those hills must have become green. Whatever cough I had, whatever cough I didn’t have, whatever spring I sprung, whatever spring I didn’t spring, whatever stride I strode, whatever stride I didn’t stride, I must have stridden in Korea.
I’m telling you; I caught something because somewhere between here and there, somewhere not there in China and not much here Stateside, I had it and those once green, but no longer green were now emerald green, and glowing green and rolling green and she was suddenly bowling green all over my blown over, bowled over hills. She was singing on, dancing on and beyond, way beyond my hills.
Those cows? Who knows?
She was shouting. She was screaming. She was sweetly screaming, sweetly creaming all over, on, around and beyond my blanketed green hills. These hills were covered, completely covered in mossy dark and densely green grass. She was flicking and clicking and clucking but not clocking around my hills, all around my hills. So, I say again, whatever I caught, whatever my hills caught, whatever it was that turned them from barren brown to grassy green, I must have caught in Korea!