September 28, 2002

Long criss-cross rows of
cut-path grass
sun-kissed and dew-blissed
long gravel-winding drives
carrying the scent of life
sandalled and happy
full of pregnant meanings
and fullsome silences
meadows ripe for the ransacking
expansive lawns of dotted picnic tables
buttercup’d fields ground-swollen with bees
robed, ribbed grasses heather-high
glib crickets and harrumping toads
while the plaintive horizon hangs
with unshed tears.

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