A little blade of grass
A shadow on its back
So many must have passed
This blade of grass is last
It slowly grows alone
All it has is its own soul
All cozy in its loam
Always wishing to join a nearby knoll
Wishing for a bed to lay
If only it could taste a drop of dew
Always longing for May
It would survive another whole night through
Oh, you emerald soldier
For me there is no bolder
* Published in Amazing Kids! magazine December 2009
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