Trespass?

We run
across neat green landscape
manicured hills
groomed sandpits
trimmed
proper
spick and span
clearly not famililar
with harmless trodding
mild disturbance.

grass is damp
our feet squish
water sprays
we fly
wood block bridge
floating moss
marshy pond of glass
mirror for willows
pillow for horizon
upon which rise mountains
framing a melting
sweltering
buttery yellow moon.

Oh
we dance
through colors of sunset
skip
across rocks
over bibbling
babbling
brook
sprint
the four of us
just to see
whose legs are longest.

We run
set free
by this carefree jubilation
joy unleashed
bubbling over
laughter.

And so we return
hearts filled
and overflowing
with that elation
and they tell us
we've been
trespassing
on the golf course.