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Green Grass

and where it grows

By Caitlin ThomsonPublished 3 years ago 1 min read
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Green Grass
Photo by Eric Lagergren on Unsplash

I have been told the grass grows greenest where you water it,

Good advice, I’m sure, for the droughtless,

For those not living between pallid sheets,

Asking a rusted, riddled brain politely to let them out from

Six blankets under, from a world of warm white nothing,

But that my tale is spun from threads themselves unique

Is a lie, a con conducted by a mind accustomed to dull yellow walls:

For my particularity is a product of every red skyed morning,

Every tear wiped away, every hand held in mine,

Nudging me to walk where the blue rain pours

And pours,

And pours,

And pours,

The grass grows up to my eyebrows,

And there is nothing to see but

Green.

friendship
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About the Creator

Caitlin Thomson

Student writing for fun, hoping to be an author one day!

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