Lying in the garden
On the Earth’s green grass
Holding hands together
As we talk about the clouds
We study them and look for clues
Of what the future holds
We watch the fluffs, white on blue
Seeing shapes, a story told

We lie on grass until night
Relaxing in embrace
Having fun in the lovers’ garden
On Earth, the happiest place
The wind is playing with the trees
The sky is full of stars
We talk about what the other sees
And enjoy the lovely smell of grass

and sometimes it feels like
i have been living the same life
for a while now

but however unremarkable
a single blade of grass
pushing through the sticky april mud

and however unextraordinary
the murky river meandering
through modest midwestern hills

however bleak
the cloudy midwinter sky
shadowing frozen earth

the grass still sprouts
a thousand shades
of enduring green

the river still rushes
purposefully toward
greater estuaries

and every single cloud decorating
the daytime sky will never paint this picture
quite the same way ever again

More puddle steps that everyday
Fall back again with water rain
More tiny drops of water snow
And concrete grasses wet the stone:
More morning blue that fills the trees
And vapid air that sets the breeze:
In spring, and yet with winters loud,
The sultry days the world bestows:
Of mid sunshine in evening days,
Sour grass set the mellow rays;
A cousin-friend to summer's life;
The April springs of Toronto life.

She sat there plucking bits out of the long grass in her hand
The wind ruffled her hair, lifting her eyelashes to the majestic view of the sunflower meadow
The sun setting had made a dark scarlet and purple hue in the sky
The birds retreating back to their nests
Over with their daily hunt for food, and singing their melodies
She sang her own song and whistled to the tune of the birds
Her eyes sparkling from the last rays of sun, she closed her eyes
Laying her head on the soft grass, she dozed into the night of stars

the first days of spring are upon us
and the rebirth is apparent in things all around us
from the leaves slowly growing back
to the grass, in need of mowing from growing fast
squirrels nibbling on juniper berries
the scent in air, sappy tar carried
with pollen intermixed
your allergies amiss
though still fortunate for the spring

I

In dreams,
I thought I saw a butterfly overfly our heads
wearing the dawn folded in wings,
a pair of God's eyes, peptants and atrocious.

And I was dirt, my hair, grass
that your feet treaded on.

My name was a song of silence in your mouth,
my verses, a diffuse memory in your mind,
my soul, hung on the branches, made you shadow.

And my love for you weighed, like the sun
when, at dusk, it leans over the field.

His love was a lightning bolt that split her bones and left her stalked
out on the grass.

She made his heart beat like thunder and his soul sing with the wind.

All I know is:
I get bored when I can breathe,
the grass I lay on itches, but I lay anyways,
and when I was standing at the top of the
Eiffel Tower,
I still wanted to die.