Titanic plains of blue-green grass
In mesmerizing liquid sway
Moon-touched swathes of faunal mass
Nocturnal wisps departing clay

The grassy spindles claw the puffs
Of scudding cloudy passers-by
Whom trundle over spiny bluffs
At point where earthen bulk meets sky

This living thing in all but name
Respiring horde in windswept dance
It whispers things to passing gales
Matters heard alone by ants

These parching droves who would conspire
To snare the rain until the dawn
When dew, reflecting spheroid fire
Shall fall toward the verdant lawn 




Daniel Arian Bourke