Slow as Grass

Slow as Grass

I'm growing patience as the cut grass grows
Blunt headed, stubborn, in a warm November,
Blunt where cut to last all winter but it grows
On, blunt headed. I am not yet patient as the grass,
Waiting the melt of mist that soaked it flat
Splashed by the feet of cattle into suns,
Hoof high. As the sun climbs the day dries.

Now elephant cloud teams drag behind them grey
Tarpaulin, evening. Riding it come children
Last seen trailing (like dressing gown cords) their dreams.
At dusk I hurl a ball with them, still waiting,
Pretending a day complete which is only ending,
Growing to patience as they will have to grow
Or mimic what seems day's busyness, but day
Is never busy, is as slow as grass.


from Something About (Carcanet Press, 2004), copyright © P J Kavanagh 2004, used by permission of the author and the publisher

Recordings

PJ Kavanagh

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1Dedication Poem

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2Yeats's Tower

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3The Spring

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4On The Way to the Depot

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5Perfection Isn't Like a Perfect Story

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6One

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7November the First

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8The Clapham Elephants

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9Dome

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10A Single Tree

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11Gardening

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12Beyond Decoration

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13Late Acknowledgement

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14One Sentence, and Another

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15A Ghost Replies

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16They Lift Their Heads

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17Minimal Prayer Suggestion

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18Natural History

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19Resistance

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20ITMA

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21In the Middle of the Wood

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22Message

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23Beside the Sea

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24Slow as Grass

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25Whitsun

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26Vox Pop

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27Dawns

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28Thanks

29Something About

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Books by PJ Kavanagh