Timothy is one of my favorite grasses. I mix its small seeds in with alfalfa, when I’m planting the new hay seeding in the spring. Look at the broad, beautiful leaves. Look at the seedheads, covered in pollen.
I’ll lay it down, sun-dry, rake, and roll up, into a big, round, bale. Summer sun, tucked away, waiting to be fed on a cold, winter’s day.
I’ve often thought that I should like the poetry of Walt Whitman more. He titled his epic book of poems, “Leaves of Grass.” This suggested a kinship with him that turned out to be nonexistent. I recently learned that he titled his life’s work based on a pun, “Grass” was a term given by publishers to works of minor value and “leaves” is another name for the pages on which they were printed.
I do like his poem, “O Captain! My Captain!”, written about the assassination of Abraham Lincoln. It’s more straightforward.
My favorite poet is Robert Frost. I plan on writing a post, inspired by one of his poems. The first person to guess which poem, will win a $25 gift certificate to Kiva. One guess per person. The poem is not “Mending Wall.” I’ll give you a hint, the post is about genetics. Good luck!