The snow is gone
And now I realize
That I have been
As the ground beneath it.
I am so entwined in the grass
That it hurts
To find it withered.
My tentative steps
On soggy, brown stems
Are an aching in my heart.
The air melts my face to tears,
Round and full,
Like wax dripping
From the crown of a candle,
A flagrant flame reigning over it
With passion
That will catch the grass--
But wet grass doesn’t burn.
The flames hiss and steam, Glow and sputter,
Spit and die.
Grass is tipped with grey,
Smoldering but alive--
Passion will singe me,
I’ll survive.
Author Bio:
Anne Nederlof is a high school graduate currently taking a year to be in the workforce before entering post-secondary school. She works as a health care aide in a supportive living home for seniors. She gains her inspiration from the people and the small things about her and interweaves them with her everyday thoughts. Anne has a love for words and details and has been writing since ever she knew how to form letters and words.
And now I realize
That I have been
As the ground beneath it.
I am so entwined in the grass
That it hurts
To find it withered.
My tentative steps
On soggy, brown stems
Are an aching in my heart.
The air melts my face to tears,
Round and full,
Like wax dripping
From the crown of a candle,
A flagrant flame reigning over it
With passion
That will catch the grass--
But wet grass doesn’t burn.
The flames hiss and steam, Glow and sputter,
Spit and die.
Grass is tipped with grey,
Smoldering but alive--
Passion will singe me,
I’ll survive.
Author Bio:
Anne Nederlof is a high school graduate currently taking a year to be in the workforce before entering post-secondary school. She works as a health care aide in a supportive living home for seniors. She gains her inspiration from the people and the small things about her and interweaves them with her everyday thoughts. Anne has a love for words and details and has been writing since ever she knew how to form letters and words.
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