David Barnes


Aroma of grass

(Drunkenly, I climbed the hilltop
                                    Elisha Porat)

Until I reclined
in summer’s warmth,
aroused by the fragrance
of fresh cut grass,
blades piercing into my flesh;
I didn’t believe I was home
back stricken:
I started to rise
but the weight of the sun
flaunted my weakness,
drunkenly, I climbed the hilltop
like a child,
wrapped in the fragrance of grass.

© deBarnes October. 2001 –20 ® revised November 2007 - 30th

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