I wish I were a hay.

I wish I were a hay.
Flying post to post,
Amidst memories of rain,
In the arid month of May.

I wish I were a hay.
With no boundaries,
With no shackles,
Stumbling along my way.

I wish I were a hay.
Wishing for ties.
Hoping for bonds.
If I could just, stay.

P.S. Inspired by The Grass so little has to do.