Field Grass

Fresh, fragrant and not yet tarnished 
the grass was mowed at the same time.
It laid in ragged armfuls.  By the afternoon
it was less bright, starting to dry out.  

After a week, the grass was gathered again, 
into bigger stacks, dried for a longer time.   
The stacks were so tall that the children 
dug tunnels in them to play hide and seek, 
until the parents with pitchforks, struck 
the stacks with the instruments side to 
chase the children back home for they 
feared the stories of the grass demons who 
ate boys in the sun and girls in the night. 

By now, the grass had become hay. 
The days were turning cold and chalky.
The trailers came.  The tractors also.
The sheds needed to be all filled 
for the cows to survive winter.