Russell Thornton

The Summer Grass - Poem by Russell Thornton

Evening sunlight and just-cut lawn -

a lamb shorn for the first time,
and slapped back into the field
as its wool is added to other wool and taken away.
It feels the air now as never before
on its naked hide, shivering, and uttering a hoarse cry.

My grandfather at ninety, his hair
still thick and wavy, getting his last haircut,
about to be gathered up unaware.
(Got to get a haircut. Haven't had a haircut
in a long time, he would keep saying,
when he'd had one that morning or the day before) .

I see him seated in the care facility's hair salon
with elderly women getting their perms,
at any second about to turn to the stylist to ask,
What the hell am I doing here anyway? -
an innocent, wrinkly lamb, with human eyes.

He disappears into the green radiance,
the strange pain of happiness in the summer grass.

Topic(s) of this poem: grandfather

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, January 10, 2016

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