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Observations
of the Grass Farmer
the tyranny of water and carbon
these matted roots thin and diligent
in
germinal haste
ask the green stalk
why
now why bow to me
as if
I queen of dirt as if I
mogul
of fescue
timothy
clover
the paradox of
humus too
much of both death
and life to
secrete milk
of sun to grow claws from residue
earth’s muscle
faceted from
communities impossible to poll
a stem bends for many different reasons
*
Continental
For now the divide knows For now it tells the river which way
And other clues—
Ants
dedicated in a small
Stream of sand in the grass and the minute bowing of blades as they
Wrest each set of legs forward & forward
Or,
also true, a trout that moves into
Pushes against his watery partner
Building a heat of ages
Ice
combs
Or
the difference between a stabled and a wild
Horse
heath spent & heath captured
—All known
garnered memorized
But if the field shifted
As they often do: Early monsoons
Late canaries
Or
the eleventh hour of a farmer’s crop plan
Half
safflower Half soy
So soldierly we would trail So struck in the field
And if the rules of magnetism were bent to favor
small
Children joining in a game of
Copper
strands Baled manganese Iron pills
And one mineral went missing
What then
What would it
**

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