Splendor in the Grass.

When I was a child

I would sit in the yard by the side of the house 

And study blades of grass, ant hills, 

dandelions and worms.

Rocks with silver specks.

Mosquito bites on my browned legs.

The plaid of my shorts.

My brother’s white tee shirt.

The orange popsicle streak on his arm.

I would listen to the whirring of the old push mower 

My Father making paths in the lawn.

Rolled up faded jeans.

White socks and army boots.

Bead of sweat on the end of his nose.

Smell of the earth

The ants and the dandelions.

The worms and the sky and the dog 

And my hair.

My mother.

And the sweet smell of the grass.