Abigail Whitby Fiege

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Spring springs up on me
While winter’s wind enters
A different place.
Somewhere it is welcome—
Not here.
Spring surprises me with its scents,
Sending sweet aromas of freshly mowed grass
While I bask in the sunlight.
And I might fall asleep in the lawn
While the birds chirp,
Singing their sweet, sweet songs:
Melodies that dance into my ears
Like a ballerina, gentle and swift.
Tapping my foot along in the blades.

I’ve always wondered
Why they call pieces of grass “blades.”
Blades have always reminded me
Of razors, and knives.
Blades of grass remind me
Of bare feet and spring.
Blades of grass create beautiful murder scenes—
Bowing down to create outlines of bodies
That were lying there for too long.
Spring springs up on me
And kills me in the best way imaginable.

© Abigail Whitby Fiege 2015

Abby is a sophomore at James Madison University. She is working to get a Bachelor of Arts in Communication Studies with a concentration in Interpersonal Communication and a minor in Mathematics. She started writing poetry in 2014 and is a part of Word Is Born poetry club on campus.

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One Response to Abigail Whitby Fiege

  1. dave says:

    a cutting take on the usual springy slant of growth, with some nice wordplay to chalk it up in the end.

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