Grass, O little blade of grass

– to Walt


Grass, O little blade of grass

How is it that you sit so still

Through summer’s heat,

Through winter’s fury?

To I, it is quite a feat

That you are never in a hurry.


Often I have wondered

How you came to be – right there.

Often I have wondered

Why it is you are anywhere,

So silent do you pass through life.


I don’t need to know

The categorical imperative

Nor understand completely

The holy trinity.

I need not know the reason why

It all began

Nor how come with firy splash

It will end.

I only long to know

Of your sweet solitude,

You little blade of grass.


Contented I will be

To sleep with questions

In this house of broken glass.

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