History of the Grass

First it was just the sun pulling us in slices toward the sky,
clinging soil, nitrogen and chlorophyll. Distant shushing water
and later, shrill cries. The first hoof startled us. We learned to spring
back. We held rain at our uttermost fingertips, sheltered spiders
among our waists. We colluded
 
with the devourers, learned the secret passages from gut to dirt
and back to wind. We shuddered at the trees. When you came
we bent our necks beneath your soft feet. You passed among us
as we nodded and we grew. We grow
 
the world. Through us twines your bread and flows your milk – we are the grain
and the cow. Where your body falls we hold your shape.
We spear through time. After fire, we are the first to return.