Why Dried Grass Won't Worry

Tue, 02/11/2014 - 16:11 -- mwerle

The day rain washes us out

is the day we'll wish for ships.

We'll sail away the very next day.

and wish for a dry summer.

 

The grass will flood and float away.

The grass will grow some other way

Some seconds pass to hours; days

go by and grass will take root again.

 

The day our summers burn our homes

is the day we'll wish for storms.

We'll dance for rain until dusk of next day

and huddle for warmth with eachother.

 

The grass will wither that day

The grass will wilt and crumble away

Some seconds pass to hours; days

go by and more grass will root in the dirt.

 

The day our winters bury our roads

is the day we'll wish for inferno.

Burning our bridges to survive in our own,

we soon fell victim to chlls, alone.

 

The grass will ignite that day.

The grass will burn and feed the great flame.

Some seconds pass to hours; days

go by as new grass rises under amoral ashes

 

The day all our wishing, reacting all halts,

Our homes will have sunk down as ashes in salt

The day we stop wishing, we strive to take fault

The day we start acting, to live with our faults]

We'll all need to stop thinking.

We'll all wish to grow.

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741