Blades of Grass

by Drew Gold   Jan 16, 2007

Fractions reduced to motes,
twilight frost with ghosts
in platinum sparkled air--
calm the shuttering womb
as the younger grasses rise
imperial above the tomb;
with a cool horizon waiting
the green cuts into blue,
asking nothing but from light,
bright bits of it to chew.


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Latest Comments

  • 16 years ago

    by Lenny

    Now that is beautiful...perhaps more of a nature poem despite its life/society themes? Maybe shuddering womb as opposed to shuttering? Shuttering makes me think of staggered closing or just shutters... Otherwise what crisp language! The imagery was stunning and it ended so well.

  • 17 years ago

    by Sheree Speaks

    What a cool poem! Because of the fact that this poem is called Blades of Grass, it makes it more clear to the reader the illistartion and purpose of it all. Kudos! :D