Cool of the Grass

The cool of the grass,
foreign as white snow flakes,
has never ceased to amaze this
South Texas native.

I've seen toddlers avoid it
at all costs. Placed in the grass,
she refused to budge an inch,
fearful of the green plague all around,
and not a route of escape.

Finally, her wobbly legs
could not outlast her will.
She crashed, diaper first,
into the ocean of green needles
surrounding her.

Gathering her bearings,
the South Texas child
reached out a fingertip
to discover a new land
and delicate, cool blades
of lush grass comforting,
and not piercing her landing.


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