i was directly in the center of a bed of grass, mown
so neatly it could have been your grave—
a plain green canvas, marked by no stone

if you truly were buried there, i didn’t know
i placed flowers there just in case
i was directly in the center of a bed of grass, mown
every day by a man as pale as bone
i never knew him, but i considered him brave
a plain green canvas, marked by no stone

i remember when you said the moon was something you owned
now it shone above this place:
i was directly in the center of a bed of grass, mown

so neatly it could have been your grave, unknown
sayings not yet engraved, i forgave
a plain green canvas, marked by no stone

i can’t tell now if i’m alone
i don’t like the explanations i gave
i was directly in the center of a bed of grass, mown
perfectly, almost like a representation of my home