The Lawn
I grew up in a house that had a huge green lawn in the backyard.
It ended at the edge of a steep hill. When I stood on it, I felt suspended
as if I was floating just above the small town below.
I remember basking in the sun on this soft, pampered suburban lawn--
hot summer afternoons made it too hot to move, no breeze, and
lizards scurrying by to break the silence, interrupt daydreams.
As I think back to being eye-level in that green blade jungle;
I think of all the feet that have crossed there.
Bare feet and boots, high-heels and the delicate hooves of deer--
All the memories that have walked away.
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