Unhindered, underfoot

I hear the grass growing,

inch by inch by inch,

it feels like I just cut it, yet it persists.

Chickens prance around the yard

giving the green carpet a cleaning –

slugs, aphids and earthworms bite the dust,

one by one, all small beings reduced to mush.

Chew, chew, chew, I’m smacking on my tasteless gum

drained of color and morning-after bedpost hard,

strengthening jawbones without talking, how absurd!

Lawn trimmings tickle my nose, and sneezing, I propel

the ancient spitball downward, smashing an innocent arthropod.

Flip-flop, flip-flop, flip-flop, walking in my sandals towards the deck,

I sit down to reflect on the incredible number of dog turds I evaded

until my last step, squish, crap, it figures I guess.

Cold lemonade sweats on the table, a sugar stand set up in the heart of fly country,

the dirty dozens drop in for a smack of my hand, pain served for my pleasure, I eye

my victims, splattered, upturned hairy raisins

and flick them into space for the beaks to embrace.

Uncomfortable, I wince as the sun jabs its searing rays into my skin:

its way of telling me to re-apply Banana Boat SPF 50 before I resemble

a cancer-stricken wild heathen.

Distracted while reading a used book from Goodwill, I examine the ever-industrious

ants climbing up the windowsill;

cliffhangers, hill-builders, chemical addicts to the core, their frenzied antics

embody a picnicker’s worst nightmare.

But they just march along, not really nosing into my novel, too busy tracking

pheromones from their frontrunner’s glands.

In a way, they make me aware of human behavior, indifferent to others, altruism

as a means to finalize an agenda, in-genuine, mechanical motions in response to

genuine earthly stimuli.

Standing up, I remove my sandals and exit the deck to go feel the grass grow

underfoot, taking time to perceive things as they are, unhindered in the moment.

About tyler4turtles

I am an avid photographer, poet, ecologist, bookworm, blogger, art enthusiast and runner who calls Montana home but lives in Oregon.
This entry was posted in Humor, Nature, Poetry and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

7 Responses to Unhindered, underfoot

  1. Gallivanta says:

    I wish we had a bit more grass to hear growing. So very very dry.

  2. I pray that you get some rain soon. When I lived in Montana, we always had to deal with drought and horrible fire seasons, so I know how it feels. It’s funny that I have lived in two disparate environments, one lush and the other arid, one with 19 inches of rain in one month (Coos Bay, Oregon) and the other 12 inches of rain in one year (Helena, Montana). Life is full of contrasts and I believe it gives a person perspective, depth and certainly more respect for the power of nature. Here’s to greener pastures on your side of the world!

  3. Reblogged this on The ancient eavesdropper and commented:

    I’m heading down to Coos Bay today to finish hauling up the rest of our belongings to Corvallis, but before I leave, I wanted to shed some sunshine and peel some laughter onto your Sunday. Read and enjoy!

  4. VeeKay says:

    Do you carry a notepad around with you when you go about your daily duties, or a mini recorder because this poem is very ‘real time’ 🙂 Have a good trip

    • Thank you, Verity! We finally got the third and final load of our belongings hauled up from Coos Bay to Corvallis. Moving is such a time consuming and stressful task that I hope to never repeat at this scale again! In regards to the poem, I did write this immediately after all the events in the text occurred. Sometimes inspiration hits right away in real time, while other moments take longer to germinate. Right now, my imagination is growing like the green grass outside my porch. Every time I mow an idea, another one comes back even stronger than the first. This grass feels so good! Hope you had a relaxing weekend 🙂
      Cheers,
      Tyler

      • VeeKay says:

        Poetry is obviously your blood, oxygen and life support machine Tyler. Most people would abandon it at those busy times but it appears to keep you sane 🙂 Even your replies are poetic. I wish you both much luck in the new place

      • Thank you, Verity! Your kindness and support is invaluable to me. Change is never an easy thing to wrap your mind around, but it is inevitable just like growing up (although, I do hope adults retain their curiosity and child-like wonder!). However, poetry continues to be my immovable rock in the face of change. My wife and I (and our pets) are transitioning quite well in our new house and are warming up fast to the community.
        Cheers,
        Tyler 🙂

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