Long Seasonsgreen Poems

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.