6. A poem by Carl Sandburg

Busy day today, so I will just offer a poem—one of the prompt poems from this afternoon's generative session. The prompt being grass. Along with a photo I made eleven years ago at Gettysburg.

Grass

by Carl Sandburg

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work—
                                                   I am the grass; I cover all.

And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Shovel them under and let me work.
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:
                                                   What place is this
                                                   Where are we now?

                                                   I am the grass.
                                                   Let me work.

(The poem I came up with also about a grave, but the bulk of it was a bit more cheerful than this one by Sandburg.)