Grass and Worry

Spring’s first breath invites my bare feet to dance,

tickled by blades that stretch toward the sun,

a neighbor’s laughter, the sweetest of sounds,

but my mind, a heavy fog, feels far from fun.

Each blade whispers secrets, I should let go,

but tangled in worries, I’m pulled back in,

the weight of the world, like a tight, tangled bow,

as if grass and the sky, could hide all my sins.

I want to bask here, to breathe in the ease,

but bills pile like weeds in the corners of thought,

the grass laughs below, yet I struggle to seize,

the moment of joy, in this fight I’ve fought.

The softness beneath me, a contrast so bright,

yet worry creeps back like a thief in the night.