The singing grass

Get out of your head

And listen to the sound of the grass as she sways

One beast?

Covered in a pelt that stretches for days?

Or a thousand small clumps

Communing

The wind brings their conversation

From earth to ear

The human walking past

Suddenly tuning in

Hears

A longing for rain

Whish full pining for seeds

Left to go tumbling out on the breeze

The music

Of a million hollow reeds

Singing

An aria

There is a percussion when faced front on

That buffets my own ear drums

But if I turn to whom the grass serenades

The melody again kicks in

Is it my footfalls

Or is that the bass?

Bugs and crickets lying almost flat

Down near the dirt tumbling neath shoes

The grass is singing

A connection tune

Orchestral conductor

Swings into action

He will make use of anything

For the main attraction

The windmill

The chimes

The steel drum with hollowed out sides

It likes hollow things

The wind

Because only the

Empty

Can hear

It sing

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