I Am Grass

I know I must cover half the land in my reseda green blades. I know I came first, to enrich the earth's dry sands, and to prepare for the beginnings of man. I watched the trees grow giant, all alone watched them stretch, heard them die and groan. All this past I have lived, and I am tramped on, ignored, "Outdone" by boastful blooms that have over time been planted around me, a-top me. That have stolen the sunlight that dapples my plains And have quenched their thirst with what was supposed to be, my rain. Stargazers, lilies, irises Bleeding heart, columbine, Hyacinths. Gaining second, third views and careful tending to. When I am merely watched by lazy clouds. Humans dig their sharp heels under my long blades, And even then! They mow me flat every few days. Further still, I endure their picnics suffocating my soft fields. Watch as he hands her a bouquet. Ah! what a pitiful charade! Then I silently mock the flowers that close every night to moonshine while my strong green grasses dance all the time.