Rivers wind unnoticed
through the brown hills
and budding trees,
where dark, little birds
pierce the blue sky.
I drift in vague symmetry
lying somewhere on the grass,
among the wild onion sprouts,
and watch the
cherry blossoms fall
like tardy flakes of winter snow.
I want to hug the earth
and kiss the sky;
but one is too big,
the other too high.
The billowing clouds
drift stately by,
as imperious as spirit barks
of long-dead pharaohs
and their queens;
and I dream of Cleopatra
and beautiful Nefertiti
so long ago on the fertile Nile.
I should quit dreaming,
rise up and mow the lawn,
but it will just grow back.
And no one will say,
a thousand years from now,
'Here lies that great conqueror of the grass.'
No, I think the idle man is wise
who takes his time upon the grass
to revel in the blessings of the spring,
the things that cannot last.
kendall thomas's Other Poems
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