Okay, I’m pretty sure grass doesn’t have any secrets, but it sounded so cool as a title so here goes. This grass had shown up every year at the same time, waiting, wanting, yearning, for that rock formation to move just a little closer, but no, the rock stayed its distance, refusing to even acknowledge the grasses existence or place in the seasonal change continuum, but wait…the sun was setting, the rock started to glow and for just a second the rock looked as though it would finally address the grass, finally stretch it reflection to touch upon the inner most blades that had never felt the….wait…what’s that sound…it sounds like…James Brown blasting through tiny speakers..and a mumbled voice…“better not be no damn snakes in here”…ahh crap, it’s that guy with the camera again stomping through my cousins with his ipod and tripod…I’m really getting sick of this guy ruining my moments so he can capture his little pictures, I’m here all damn day and night and he only comes out at sunset because he wants….wait…he wants the same thing as me, he wants that reflection, my god, my one true love is a jackass in baggy pants and smelly boots and I never saw it…maybe I should tell him about that snake by his feet.
Wow, grass has way more depth than I gave it credit for, who knew.
Willow Lake, Prescott Arizona USA
Broken Grass Heart