The Grass Is On The Outside Poem by Pablo Cruise

The grass is on the outside

Thatch the soil to spur it new
Gather up its yesteryear
Shave it close to flash the smell
Seed the thin bare pattern
Spray the whole and watch it glisten
How do I look?

Scratch the inevitable itch
Never once uttering a disparaging word
Hear the crack of wood
To cheers ensued the sound
Hold the cold blades firm between your toes
How do I feel?

Seen but not seen under mounds of fallen flora
Hoping for the gales to sweep clean
Chill does fall in days grown short
A kaleidoscope with shape and texture
Not one to share the spotlight
Do you mind?

Calls from frosted glass beneath the cotton quilt
Beckoning you for only a moment to remember its footing
Not happy with this current arrangement
The protest drowned in paled beauty
Soon slumber befalls the swaddled shafts
Do you miss me?

The grass is on the outside