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Consider the Grass (Free verse) by Dovina A single leaf from internode
wraps, protects a tender stem,
leans out to catch the sun.
Efficient, simple structure,
entwines the neighborsâ roots,
sways to wind and rain.
East of piney Rockies,
west of hardwood Ozarks,
Grassland rules the Plain.
Buffalo trampled, cattle shaved,
entombed by plow and road
resilient grass comes creeping back.
A lesson rhizomes teach:
without its gripping roots,
a bare and sterile dustbowl.
Today theyâre clipping seeds
in windy western Kansas
taking in the winter wheat,
filling world trade centers,
skyscrapers on the plain,
a gift of grassy grain,
Like an ant beside a cola can,
I pedal past the Grigston Co-Op
in awe of mother grass.
Up the ladder:
Need For Speed
Down the ladder:
To A Streetchild
Votes: (green: user, blue: anonymous)
Arithmetic Mean: 6.0
Posted: June 29, 2007 6:44 PM PDT; Last modified: July 1, 2007 1:54 PM PDTWeighted score: 5.2689414 Overall Rank: 3901 Comments:
[8]
nypoet22 @ 65.8.70.95
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30-Jun-07/12:24 AM
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Reply
there's only so much excitement you can inject into a poem about grass growing, but i applaud the effort. adding the "I" in the last stanza seems not to fit very well.
[n/a]
Dovina @ 24.224.5.72
> nypoet22
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30-Jun-07/3:46 PM
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Reply
What? No awe or even respect for The Keeper, holder of the all-important soil, maintainer of your grain-loving soul? Sacrilege! I suggest you repent at once!
Surprising you find awe in grass - something I've never even considered to be wondered over. The first two lines in the last stanza bring an instant response of awe...but the grass! Interesting how your mind works with what you see.
I have a memory of the Grassland, the Great Plain between the Rockies and the Ozarks, a conclusion from a collection of observations, most of which have passed from mind. In that sense I must say that those observations did not take place and only my image of their whole remains, an impression. I have memory images that correspond to sensual observations in the past. âInteresting how your mind works with what you see,â as you say. And I may be imagining rather than remembering. Only rockmage mentalities deny this.
Isn't that the way of the poet - mixing of both memory and imagination. Even a memory is never true to the event. This is good stuff, I enjoyed it.
The images are good and in places you hint at a swaying rhythm which is ace, but you don't sustain it. The final stanza is marvellous.
Always the feeler of sway, hearer of rustling leaves, of rising accent, riverâs current. Doctrinally, of charismatic leaning, I suspectâthe feel and flow of grass superceding its sound religious dogma. Your awe may come with gentle wind that tosses heads in rhythmic waves, mine beneath a concrete cylinder rising tall above a wheatfield town. Please donât change. And look again for sway; Iâve breathed on it.
It works better now. 'Sways to wind and rain' is exactly what I was talking about. Perhaps a couple more sibilants in some places to keep a constant hissing of grass? Maybe that would be a little over the top, but it might be worthwhile playing around with the sound.
very strong ending, loved this upon finishing it
I've changed it. Hope I didn't ruin it for you.
i do like the rhythm that (it appears) you have tweaked. whatever, it works well with the theme.
i hear the wind on this prairie, the soft subtle moaning through the blades as they rustle, bending and sweeping their neighbors. i also like the slow outward zoom, if you will, going from micro to macro, although if this was intentional, there are a few places where it breaks the progression: s3 & s5 zoom much further out. something about the last stanza is uncomfortable. i guess putting yourself into the piece brings the image of the expanse of the prairie to bear, but doesn't sit well with me. much in the same way that some tlevision commercials will lead in with some awe-inspiring imagery, only to ruin the effect by presenting their product. but that is personal preference... still, a great piece. thanks.
Outward zoom â a good name for what I was trying doing in the first three verses. Then I switched to a kind of historical march in the second half, and finally, an almost religious chant at the end. Sorry you donât like the personal entry at the end. I donât know how to bring the feeling I experience here in Kansas into the poem without getting personal. See my comment to Paul.
so.... are the rockies, next? or the desert?
From where I sit on this fine evening in Ordway, Colorado, looking west, the Rockies rise as pleasant relief from the vastness of the middle America plain over which I've pedaled these last weeks. Beyond them lies Utah and the desert, only to be followed by the Loneliest Road in America - Highway 50 accross Nevada.
The images here are very good Dovina. You have taken something simple and ordinary, something most of us take for granted, and raised it to the extraordinary--great insight and a great write.
In western Kansas theyâre harvesting a bumper crop of wheat; and the price of wheat is double normal. I see a lot of sunburned smiles in Tribune. Their fortune follows good weather in the west and crop failures in the soggy east, driving up the price. I have no stake in this except to watch the combines, the trucks and the grain elevators rising like temples above each tiny town in the Plain.
There's still some trimming to be done.
Resilient, a lesson, can go. Possibly- efficient, as well. Like the silo as a cola can. Maybe not so much awe. Just watching, I think would be better.
Agreed on âresilientâ and âlesson.â Most folks say Iâm too thin; youâve caught me fat. Iâve also taken some of the awe out. Rankers get tired of too many edits, so Iâll not post the changes. Thanks.
Pretentious.
indeed you are.
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