Grass Poem by David Michael Jackson


water flows over rocks
bubbles from stone to stone
there is no stopping it as it flows slowly past me like the winds
yes the winds whisper
whisper softly
for me and the grasses sway for me
they are calling to you
this war
this war
this war
can you hear them calling
these grasses they grow
they grow silently swaying over our heros
this war
this war
this war
this poem
this poem
this poem
brushes of color
can you see it?
can you hear the grasses swaying for you
can you?

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