Grace Massey, Newton, Massachusetts, USA
Notice the meadow
as you scuff your way to the pond,
mites hazing about your shoulders.
Queen Anne’s lace, a few orange lilies
among a sea of stalks.
Heedless to oppressing earth,
be the mole.
Flow through sleek furrows,
be the snake.
Stamen to stamen,
be the insect.
Watch for whispers in the grass,
be the raptor.
To find the snake slipping among the reeds
you kneel in the road’s dusty ruts.
though you walk on pathways.
Hold your breath.
You are human, unattuned to subtle voices.
The meadow speaks softly.
The meadow speaks softly.
You are human, unattuned to subtle voices.
Hold your breath.
Though you walk on pathways,
you kneel in the road’s dusty ruts
to find the snake slipping among the reeds.
Be the raptor,
watch for whispers in the grass.
Be the insect,
stamen to stamen.
Be the snake,
flow through sleek furrows.
Be the mole,
heedless to oppressing earth.
Among a sea of stalks,
Queen Anne’s lace, a few orange lilies,
mites hazing about your shoulders,
as you scuff your way to the pond,
notice the meadow.
Grace Massey has a BA from Smith College and an MA in English from Boston University. Her poetry combines careful observation with lyricism and often focuses on the themes of nature and family. She has been recently published in Thimble, Amethyst Review, Front Porch Review, and Vita Brevis. Grace is a retired editor who spends her time writing, taking ballet classes, and socializing shelter cats.