we lived richly under the sun
in the long grasses of our memories
and when the mockingbird arrived
the news came that the grass was gone
take me, i would say to you
down to the thicket, down to the long grasses
and you would say to me
the grasses are gone, every one picked
you would say this to me at length each morning
because you believed the mockingbird
i have seen the grass
and it still runs cool on my back
it whispers your name as it teases my neck
quietly, quietly
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