Marc Levi
On The Grass
with my chin settled on the
ground
in its little wet divot, I saw
how each dewdrop has a rainbow
arcing though it
how clover is covered in tiny
silver hairs
we crush when we pick even four
leaf ones
how it really is that an ant
climbs
over the very top of a blade of
grass
and down the other side
how a lady bug has to crack
open
and unpack her wings
like wedding dresses out of a
suitcase
how six legs work together
never touching the ground
how many wings, sizes, shapes
perform
undeciphered physics formulas
how there's always something
unexpected
how I don't even know the back
of my hand
how itches become tickles when
you see
clearly
how difficult the business of
negotiating
a hairy arm can be
how many colors there are I
cannot even see
how, soon
I'll go back to the human world
and kill the ants that come out
onto my counter
to feed on peanut butter and
droplets of
honey.
Marc Levi spends his
time "mountain" biking among banana spiders in the mosquito infested woods
of North Florida, visiting Death Row, and struggling to develop a common
language with his extraordinarily patient wife, Melinda. Some day he'd
like to be courageous enough to fold original, uncopied poems into paper
airplanes and float them off of mountaintops. | 