Grass Stains | 2025
My family’s childhood swing, watercolor animation, my brother’s college dorm TV.
Floating up here for a moment, I’m free.
The wind tickles my face, my heart
giggles in anticipation of gravity
pulling me back down.
I kick a dirt cloud,
pushing me back up.
As siblings, we would take turns
until we would race from treefort to
bathtub to wash proof of play off soles.
Then things got busy. Stuff got done.
Lots to study. Learned a ton.
I came out. I grew tall.
The swing pressed pause,
then the grass hit play.
While we were all away.
Something felt wrong
when I returned back to
our yard. Silent. Still.
Then I noticed the blades.
The gory green stains
bled on our beloved patch.
I shed my dress shoes and socks,
exhale as I lower into a familiar seat.
I kick a grass tuft, pushing me back up.
