green, nature, personal writing, photo, poem, summer, writing

All in the Smell of Just Cut Grass

A sensory rush stocked with the stuff of long-forgotten whims.
A second to pause and hold onto the smell of summer and innocence.
Rolling down steep grassy hills,
laying at the bottom in stupid silly giggles.
Dress up play and make believe.
Bicycles, grass stains, and skinned knees.
Hide-n-seek and capture-the-flag.
Long warm days, and staying out til it’s dark. 
All in the smell of just cut grass.

2 thoughts on “All in the Smell of Just Cut Grass”

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