I lay there
for
hours
my fingers mindlessly
tugging at the grass
the sun
warming my back
my breath
escaping shallowly
from my
lips
the dandelions
gently brushing against
my cheeks
this is
what I might imagine
heaven
to be
but
I think
this isn't it
my fingers clench
the grass
underneath them
and with a yank
I
uproot
the green blades
my blond hair falls
over my face
obscuring
all that I can see
with these
eyes
not yet
I think and
the clouds cover the
sun
not yet
and I stand
taking the grass
in my hand
with me
