PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

Leave me alone 
amidst the daisies. 
I have come to talk 
to a quivering dandelion. 

I must see. I must 
count the teeth of the tiger 
who had stopped killing 
the bucks, but- 

there was death in the grass. 

Cannot believe in 
shadows moving behind the 
moon. The space was 
shrinking, and tongues were 
very sharp, but - 

there was death in the grass.