Every blade of grass
Fed by rays from space
Each color refracted
An afternoon complete
With swing set
Barefoot strolling
Impartial recognition
Nihilism’s shadow
Hides seeds supplanting thistle
Frail beginnings
Awkward stems
Reaching for our earth
And a life left behind
Leaching nourishment
Acknowledged
By their voices
But glances are more telling
Lonely wanderer,
Man imbued
Disparate hopes
Discouraged and disheartened
As the sun shines down
His blades reflect
Refracted radioactivity
Thistled leaves snapping
Thorny twigs grasping
At our earth
At our voices
At anything
Our serendipity