Bed of Needles
the grass
will be green
all throughout
the spring
and shrivel into
straw by summer
it’s like walking
on a bed of needles,
but the pain isn’t so
bad that it’d be lethal
spikes and prickles
to the callus of my feet
the grass that
was once green
has since turned
into wheat
I've been watering
my dead plants
hoping that
they'd come back
and bloom like
they have before
I fill the pitcher and
watch the droplets pour
down into succulents and
a small dandelion patch
avoiding the weeds and
stems that are detached
I want it to be like
how it used to,
I reminisce about
the day I first met you
we continue to extend
our roots and grow
I'll return next season,
becoming a dark rose
- Leah Rae