by Lucia Martinez-Castro ’23
Oh to run forward through the rolling waves of grass
Regardless of the sharp knives of green tickling at my feet
I sway through the fields and the sprouts and leaves
And this is what love feels like, love, a true love
But for whom is it I feel this way?
For it could be myself I feel about
Or maybe the grass under my bare feet, softly carrying me over the hills
For all I know is that I run through the tides and billows of enchanting green
Surges and crests of sweet pollen overwhelming my ability to think
And I welcome the silence the meadows bring
And I fall to the surges and crests of the prairie, swallowed by the hum of the birds and bees
Lying down for the rest of the onwards eternity.