Tall Grasses

Tall grasses...touching me,
Falling around my feet.
Laying back their yellow stems,
Where their rootlets meet.

Waving gently in the wind,
Like a bearded plume.
Standing tall with seeded crest,
Pushing to make room.

Touching to my fingertips,
Tickling as I go.
Here and there and everywhere,
There's radiance in their glow.

T'is fulness in maturity,
So plump to generate.
Giving forth unto the world,
Their purpose cannot wait.

To drop their seeds,
Is to sap their very strength.
That others might come forth,
They flourish in their length.


E.P. 1908 - 1989