Ten reasons to watch the grass grow

 

Ten Reasons to Watch the Grass Grow

10. The paint is already dry.

9. You can’t count so you are not sure how many sheep there are and most sheep are not green. They are sheep.

8. It is green like money but grows way faster than your savings and you can roll around in it and pretend to be rich.

7. Cheese tastes good, the sun feels nice, but you are not yet ready to take a nap and the sprinkler going round and round and round like back in the old days when real water existed has made you dizzy.

6. You are waiting for summer and you live under the snow. You like the contrast of the cold snow blanket keeping the grass warm and somewhat alive. It mesmerizes you. You think this makes you memorable and maybe even living.

5. The other alternative is to watch TV or stream something but you know skipping stones in water running around your toes is the only streaming you need.

4. Twiddling your thumbs is too close to exercising and you gave that up to focus on your health.

3. You are having trouble finishing this list. Maybe the author could at least try to do something at this point besides type letters like a monkey. Wait, no! that's not nice to monkeys.

2. The sun has already risen and you live too far away from the ocean to watch the waves. The little green leaves will have to do for a deep green ocean to lose yourself in until the sun is ready to fall and the stars explode.

1. Well…  you are reading this list so your options are probably pretty limited...  but at least you can read.

In Contrast to Meaning

 

In contrast to meaning

Words and ideas meet, and in a symbol make: The sound and shape of thought to speak and show again the story new. Told before now written afresh appearing novel. A past idea caught, collected like the dew in a decompression of time, space, and energy as though present and refracted by the rising sun and absent by the heat of day a vapor, a writing, a tracing of the changing bodies in which ideas dwell.

Song

A word echoed by an ear only heard in the heart and searches for meaning—only—when all else fails.

I Like to Plant Pumpkins

Tomorrow

I like to plant pumpkins on the fourth of July. I do not like fireworks, crowds, or parades. I prefer the quiet of the garden. The dry, heat packed dirt. The chance to grow something new.

I like the feel of your pulse in my hand. The quiet beat that gives me hope. This is not the night.

 

Putting Down Roots

I like to plant pumpkins on the fourth of July. I do not like fireworks, crowds, or parades. I prefer the quiet of the garden. The dry, heat packed dirt. The chance to grow something new.

The tall already harvested sweet corn shadows me. Beans bloom and beckon bugs. And in the dying barley I find a place to plant a tree as well.

 

Harvest Moon

I like to plant pumpkins on the fourth of July. I do not like fireworks, crowds, or parades. I prefer the quiet of the garden. The dry, heat packed dirt. The chance to grow something new.

Little moons on the ground in the fall they gleam. The galaxy of my universe small, travels far on ice cream plated pumpkin pie. Warming a candlelit soul with the smile of knife sharpened teeth.