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Literature Text
Oh, evil grass,
creeping runner by runner
underneath
the landscape fabric,
through the pea gravel,
to mock me
as I bemoan
the need to bend down
scrape the gravel aside
and pull your roots
up and out,
where you snake across the pathways
to infiltrate
my raised beds.
Still,
I bless the gods of the earth
that you are Fescue
and not Bermuda.
creeping runner by runner
underneath
the landscape fabric,
through the pea gravel,
to mock me
as I bemoan
the need to bend down
scrape the gravel aside
and pull your roots
up and out,
where you snake across the pathways
to infiltrate
my raised beds.
Still,
I bless the gods of the earth
that you are Fescue
and not Bermuda.
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Thoughts on a Sunny Day While Bending Over in My Garden is the full title, actually. One of those days where I noticed where the grass in my garden bed was coming from. Much pulling followed.
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