He had wondered for years what the flowers
thought of in the dark, gay heads thrust
through the quiet night at a sky with no sun.

But he had never, for some reason, wondered about the grass.
So now he stood, peering out the window of a darkened room,
trying to imagine how the grass felt about evening.

He was too far away to hear the grassy whispers
but afraid that if he walked out on the lawn,
all the grass would change its mind,

and he'd be left, listening
to a dog barking somewhere down the block.

- Bob Mohrbacher