You move me like a shiny antique tractor red and gleaming in the light of a full moon.

You move me like the cool breeze taking the heat of the day from my skin as the sun sinks into its orange bronze bed.

You move me like the tomato plant struggling to have enough water to grow one, juicy piece of fruit.

You move me like the creek running over rocks and leaves next to the trail as we ride up the mountain.

You move me like a wheat field, green and wet after a rain.

You move me like the feeling of driving a Minneapolis Moline down the road on a bright sunny morning.

You move me like a field of sunflowers, yellow petals waving in greeting as we pass by in the pick-up.