A blade of grass |
oppressed by sun and foot |
Once slender, shimmery green, |
I have faded and dried like |
the romantic dreams of an |
ancient spinster |
Heat beats down on me |
heartless people tear me from the earth |
knowing I am totally vulnerable |
I cannot shout or cry |
or even curse them |
I am impotent |
Tethered to this spot |
prostrating myself for other’s whims |
I could have provided beauty and comfort |
but was relegated to being part of |
a depository for animal droppings |
and people’s sordid discards |
How mournful I am |
knowing that life could have been |
so beautiful |
so satisfying |
but mutated into |
such ugliness |
~~July 1997 ISM
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