Ramblin' Ode

She watches the big moon and listens to the grass. It seems to her the grass holds secrets that the trees do not. She thinks, most things that will happen, will happen in the grass. The grass is where she belongs, not the trees. She lies in his arms in the nest in the grass. This is where we all belong, not up in trees, to wobble and fall. The grass calls. Her eyes close.

She falls asleep, and dreams of walking in the sun, the grass at her ears. The grass says Animalia Chordata Synapsida Mammalia. She likes the sound, in the dream. Mammalia. Mamamamama. Animalia Chordata Synapsida Mammalia, says the grass.