A poem. It kind of died near the end. Sakura trying to forget about Sasuke and his leaving of Konoha.
Inspired by Phillip Larkin.
Cut grass lies frail:
Brief is breath
Mown stalks exhale
Long, long the death.
He died long ago-
Far away strayed.
Fresh tips ripped as though
Innocence died, faded.
The grass grows high
My mind hides you from me
The sun piercing my eyes:
Everything so lost finding it so suddenly.
And when the summer grass
Scatters its seeds I die again
Falling down into the past
Dejected the memory sends.
It falls it rises
Long grass felled
Unfurling its head it meets their demises
The sharp mower beheaded.
And when memory strays
Toward that fateful night
The reminiscence stays
When you left without a fight.
The angst blots
The grass sickly with nature's jaundice
My thoughts wander to thoughts
Bad memories I relive, I insist.
When the grass grows tall
It is time to mow my memory lawn
Green blades gallantly fall
Across the grass grazes a fawn.
And the fawn digs through
The new blades which are spared
And the old at whereupon are to
Be fed to the deer at grass it tears
And sweet weeds glow the hopes
That you might return
Which taint my freshly mowed memory lawn and floats
The dandelions which I spurn.
Sweet memory.