13 Ways of Looking at Grass

I. It starts again-
Newborn sprouts,
excited to enter the earth
from its foundation.

II. Unfavorable intruders
spring up
unaffected by the stinging
glares.

III. It shimmers
in the bold sunlight-
under harsh scrutiny.

IV. Growing taller
to reach the tips of the prickly
bushes,
long and limber forces.

V. Cut down by sharp slices,
screaming with unabandoned
agony:
fresh.

VI. The grass turns an ugly shade
of brown,
beginning to dissolve
to the putrid color of grime.

VII. Crunching under
unforgiving feet,
feeling every strand
crack with the
unbearable pressure.

VIII. Covered by a heavy cloak
of white powder,
smothered underneath a clean
comforter.

IX. It hibernates-
invisible
to peering surveillance.

X. Tiny tresses poke through
and gape around the melting ice,
exhaling their first breaths of
carbon dioxide.

XI. Wet and seduced by sludge,
tickled by torrents
for several months.

XII. Resplendent in a gorgeous green,
sunbathing for half the day,
effulgent.

XIII. Continues in the cycle:
radiant, then reluctant,
somber, then sparkling.