Blade of Grass - Blade of Ink

If one moment only is allotted
To us this biting autumn morning
I will cradle your wondrous leathery hand
And lead you past a wall of shattered
Glass and havocked recollection. Past
This wall and through a rolling field
Where bronze stalks and sleeping crickets
Hear us travel. I will sit with you in a warm
Rug of grass and close your graying eyes
And write for you a song of two blades -
One to bring you near and one
To keep you there.