the sublimation of separation

Walking
barefoot on the grass,
toes uncut
by blades which fade.
The newness of persistent green
surrendering to
the listless yellow
of an impossibly close sun,
drawn in the corner of a sheet of A4.

Heavy footfall,
bruises the vibrant verdant;
browns the urgent
life spurting forth in ribbons.
Unprescient violence,
averred by the wind
groping for its low lying voice.

Lying in the meadow
the waning rays
fighting the cooling breeze
for your comfort,
as the dusky dew
seeps toward your unsuspecting skin.
To rise, and let the sun descend;
To walk to shelter from the wind,
To brush the grass aside.
To turn away- no more abide.