Enough

[brynmawr1]

When I was a boy
On our farm in Kentucky
I would lay on my back in a field  consider making the field more specific, i.e. give it a name or at least 'the' or 'that' field.
Of tall, golden broomsedge,
Hidden from all the world
Beneath a yellow sun and azure sky
Surrounded by warm golden light,
With puffs of cloud floating by,
A redtail hawk soaring,  consider 'soared'
Whistling,
Owning the sky.
It was enough.
It was enough.   rather than just repeating the line, maybe turn it around to reflect how things might have changed for the reader that makes the nostalgia more relevent.

Hi Bruce,
Nice poem.  I also like its simplicity but I think some minor tweaks could bring a little more depth without ruining the good bits.  I agree with previous comments that the middle suffers from boarder line cliche issues and is an area where some more thought about the language should be attempted.  I hope my comments are helpful.
thanks for the read,
Bryn