A Number of Feelings

A Number of Feelings
"Grass"

Ants crawling under my skin, flesh naked to the sun.
A hidden civilization, exposed too small to witness.
Bones of dried leaves, an ossuary
Black wings spread, the predator attacks.
Something grows best where something died.
The foundation in which mother earth built her lies.
A red fox lay at peace. It was dead.
A tingling on the soul of our souls that embraces a welcome. 
How simple, boring, how tedious to look at.