Poems and Poetry

Fresh Lawn | A Poem by Cameron Davis

Swords of grass knife the air,
Though It is unharmed.
Eventually, the winds greet
with waves of gusts;
Curling the clouds into honeycomb.
Dewy blades spring,
Up into autumnal fresh morning;
Unfolding emerald. Jaded insects persist
With insignificant tasks.
Roaring engine: shortens, neatens,
Tames. The wheels roll over nature;
Destroyed.



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