Inhabit the Grass
Before the man
with the brush-mower comes
I wade into the orchard’s waist-high grass
lower myself to the ground
and sit cross-legged
among the free.
The air smells of wild anise
and ripe soil. A light breeze
teases my hair.
I watch a white crab spider
feed on a mason bee
inside a blossom of field bindweed
and now a hover fly
latches onto a seed-head of tall fescue
sprinkling pollen onto my pants.
Old and stiff as I am
it will take some time to get to my feet.
I draw a breath, roll to my knees
and untangle myself
from a tendril of bedstraw
clinging to my wrist.
CHARLES GOODRICH is the author of four volumes of poetry, including Watering the Rhubarb and A Scripture of Crows. Read more.