In a Field as I Lay

Tiny blades of grass

impale the Earth

straight to my heart.

I touch the ground,

feel it close to my chest.

Intertwined we collide

I see myself in every strand.

Tall, short

cut and slant—

they are as green

as I’ve ever been.

And now they are blue.

Endless like the sky,

bits of white cloud my eyes.

The leaves of grass

fall from grace

littered, gone with the wind,

wisps of hair

thorn across my face.

Tangled we are

together in time

me and the hellbent

weeds that hold on tight.

Wrapping arms

in dirt surrounded by

barbed-wiring trees,

My legs land upright

As I stagger to my knees.

Deliberately, I stand

planted with

green-stained hands

trailing grime and grit

like it’s sweat off of

my upper lip.

Licking softly

the taste of

my own medicine,

I’m sweet with a hint

of summer lemon grass.