Snapping Of The Wheat Stalks Poem by Leo Lavetsky

Golden locks, light as straw, run through my fingers,
I hold the scissors up to the stalk
Snapped it right near the top
The remnants of the wheat lingers,

Now, all that remains is a layer of grass,
Its layers hazardously cut to my ears
Lost weight I had held for countless years
A seemingly unimportant loss of mass,

I happen to like the look of the grass and weeds,
And its stark difference to what used to be
Everything a flurry of colour that I see
A notable change happens in the planting of new seeds