Poetry of the Soul

Poetry is thoughts that breathe, and words that burn. ~Thomas Gray

Frozen Grass February 9, 2010

Filed under: poetry — laurenmichelleotheim @ 6:32 pm

Looking through the window

I see trees stand guard

Over a land separated from me

By paned glass and mixed bricks hard

And rough.

The crispy outer layer of frozen grass

Must sting in the frost bit air

Of such separate make up from

My controlled air warmed by gas

Fireplace flames.

Maybe the ground is cold and wet

Or warmed by an earlier misty rain

That I missed taken in by painted walls

And a carpeted brown-black net

Of floor.

I cannot bring myself to leave my chair

And press foot on an impressionable ground.

To know that the dent I leave will soon

Be over grown, forgotten, without a care.

(c) Lauren Otheim – 2010

Protected by Copyscape Plagiarism Check Software

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4 Responses to “Frozen Grass”

  1. laurenmichelleotheim Says:

    Thank you!

  2. Billy Says:

    I like this one lots.

  3. laurenmichelleotheim Says:

    Thanks, Billy!


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