the grass which sits under my feet are the grass of last week
long summers
changing winters
fastly passing by with shivers
the same grass that held my mother and her mother's mother.
this grass is like no other
they long for rain in the fall
and long for sun in the winter
they bloom and show their faces in the spring
but hide under snow till the next meeting
this grass has brought flowers
and have seen showers
this grass will grow
and grow over again
so you can spend
your time laying on them.
