deepundergroundpoetry.com
Ugly Brown Grass
clouds made of cotton
shuffle languidly across
the solid cornflower sky,
a perfect canvas
marred only
by silvery-white vapor
with soft brushstrokes
in varying degrees of gray
blending along their edges,
casting shadows
on only half my leg
as I sit in with my face
to the glorious sun,
begging for its warmth;
the ugly yellow grass
crunchy beneath me,
winter’s icy breath
still hanging on
by a thread
shuffle languidly across
the solid cornflower sky,
a perfect canvas
marred only
by silvery-white vapor
with soft brushstrokes
in varying degrees of gray
blending along their edges,
casting shadows
on only half my leg
as I sit in with my face
to the glorious sun,
begging for its warmth;
the ugly yellow grass
crunchy beneath me,
winter’s icy breath
still hanging on
by a thread
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