Hey, Grass…

grassHey, grass…

Every week,

I cut you

Down to size,

Forcing you

To conform

To my norm.

You reach

For the sky,

And I




Every week,


Of what

I’ve done

To you,

You return.

Defying me.

Standing up

To me.

Showing off

Your tenacity

And resilience.

Then I





Should I

Admire you?

Should I

Try to be




How do you

Find the


To face

The blade

Week after



Tell me

Your secrets,

And maybe,

If my


Don’t complain

Too much,

I’ll go

A little longer

Between mows.

I apologize

For my

Mixed message.

I nurture you,

Then limit

Your growth.

Believe me,

I know

How you feel.



Of course.

About Austin

Native New Yorker who's fled to the quiet life in Maine. I write movies, root for the Yankees, and shovel lots of snow.
This entry was posted in Humor, Philosophy, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

25 Responses to Hey, Grass…

  1. Propel Steps says:

    πŸ™‚ Lovely.. In fact, grasses are the reason for human evolution. They are humble and beautiful.

  2. rowanaliya says:

    Might I suggest you entice the Billy Goats Gruff to move into the hood? Then work out a deal for lawn chewing.

  3. Lovely….. From now on…. The poem stays at a big tree in the middle of my garden. Grasses in Rio de Janeiro grow too fast….

  4. treyzguy says:

    I’d like to see more blood and guts in the next grass cutting sequel. Lot’s of screaming too….from the grass I mean

  5. hollie says:

    I saw screw the grass, pour some concrete. I have no patience for lawn care of any kind! My crazy neighbor though spends like 80% of his day working on his yard. Yuck, yuck, yuck.

  6. My rhetorical grass question. If you were a variety of turf grass–what type would you be?

  7. thehumangirl says:

    I’ve also written something about cutting grass. Haha. I like yours though!

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