The bottom half folds into the stem the way
some tongues do, cupping a soft streak
of shadow.
The top half glistens with sparkle
and subtle sun glaze. It bends forward
to a slightly drooping tip. Beneath it
hangs a bold sphere
of dew;
(
It could be any
blade of grass, but its not
just any
blade of grass, its this
blade of grass
here before me as the sun hovers above the canopy
to cheerfully greet
this day, this breath, this
blade of grass
that through chance or circumstance or something
unknown
has enchanted me into a beauty
so deep
that {even if it could
get any better}
)
all I really want
is this.