Grass

Man cuts down the tall green spears
And trims them to his smallest whim;
He mows them down and plucks them out
Mercilessly, with his strong pointed tools.
Whenever a thin green blade lifts its head
He conquers it with one ruthless stroke.
Man is master of the soil and grass
Is but a cringing helpless slave;
But when Man puts away his tools
And shuts his eyes, the green grass creeps
Out once again and takes revenge
By covering him beneath the soil and
Climbing gleefully over his face and hands.

RUTH ROGERs.