A month later
the grass has had its heyday
(though it has not been hayed)
The seed heads and the stalks
are dry
They have chosen
various burnished golds
Their work is done,
their celebration continues —
wind-dancing in the sun
amid the green bracken,
they sing softly with
the trees and insects
all through the afternoon.
©Wendy Mulhern
July 17, 2015
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