Just groomed, fresh of an intense green
I liked it, short and neat and well cared for
Like a ball field
or a putting green
On our backs as we held
each other through
the tempest sky
The green grass, closely cropped
on this good sunny day
ringed with flowers of magenta
The smell was filled
with freshness and playfulness
No drought in sight
Stager Lee could be heard whispering
"the moon was mellow and the leaves
came tumbling down"
Against my back as I lay
on the ground whispering into the clouds
everything I believed
They whispered back
"I know"
All is well
On the 18th hole as it should be
The sun was shining
The grass was short
This poem is the contribution of 12 people who responded to my request of what the phrase The Grass Was Short represented to them. Co creation and imagination ensued.
Thank you! The phrase " The sun was shining, the grass was short.".. was spoken to me by a friend. I asked him if it came from his grandmother and he said no, he just made it on the spot as his reminisced about his grandmother's house and then his visit to the same neighbor hood years later. It struck me how tending a place, both physical and in the mind bring us together again and again. So here is to the 12 that shared your memory of a place and time and touch.
I would love to write more collaborative poetry.
Thanks to all. Blessings and love, Susan
Greetings! I can see the fact that you really get the sense of what you are writing about over here. Do you a degree or maybe an education which is somehow associated with the subject of the article? Waiting forward to hear from you.
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