Look! The first blade of spring grass! And another! And another!
Soon, the field will be so filled with grass blades that I’ll forget about them altogether.
I’ll just run. I’ll dream in green, pretend I’m flying, and ignore my feet as they slowly sink into the accumulating dew.
Until the dew forms an ocean so vast that not even the sky can contain it.
As it swallows even the sun, extinguishing it, and cold darkness is all that remains.
Until every blade of grass is returned to dirt.
Then I’ll remember that first blade and just how special she was. And find her all over again in endless springs of eternal futures.
Say something kind