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Blades of grass

I see them tower above me

As I lie staring at the sky.

Like a forest of knives

The green swords cut pointing up through the clear air

While I stare

Moulding my body into the clumpy earth.

Clasping the blades and pulling out a clod

Of rich turf.

My hands stay unhurt

And my heavy head rests

In the dangerous dirt.

Walk 16 Balcombe Round Walk 06/04/02