Our lives have more to answer to than love
After Mimi Khalvati’s Don’t Ask me, Love, for that First Love

I am one blade of grass
in a field of abundant green.
I watch the world occur,
from my tiny vigil in the ground.
‘We are safe here, don’t worry’,
you said. I listened.

I wanted it to last forever;
chasing the sun across the sky,
watching the rain cover my body,
feeling the wind manipulate my form.
All from my tiny vigil in the ground.

‘I’ll be with you again soon’,
you said. I questioned.
The sun disappeared from the sky,
shadows manipulated the dark,
my breath turned to ice. The world
stopped. Solitude was no company,
all alone in the ground.

Vibrant greens soon faded to grey.
My form longed for the elements,
for anything that made me whole.
I began to fade away, retreating down,
down into the ground.

Lydia Medler