As I Sit on the Grass

As I sit on the grass
listening to the faltering song
of a little boy, so young yet,
having trouble carrying a tune

I feel
I am in my true being
in my only self
a half tone off from the people around me
a half tone off from all in the cosmos
which I believed to be my hundred selves
to be my own thousand selves

. . . . . . . dandelions, fluffy seeds
bursting out, bursting out . . . . .

It would be good to fly away somewhere
or without flying away
it’s just as good to sit like this instead
blown in the wind

AS I SIT ON THE GRASS