trimmed grass is fed
on delicacies of fertilizer
tidbits of miracle grow
its greenness unbothered
by the competition of weeds
but
where grass meets wild
wood, it doesn't stop
abruptly, the grass wanders
off in its own brave
clumps to distant spiky cousins
then naively sidles up
and kisses the extremities of trees
roots in the earth, a dark
past under the leaves
where chittering insects turn
silent, a bright remembrance of flight
the trees taste flight in the wind
runaway grass nestles in their roots
distracted by insects
