POETRY

Happening

A haiku

Photo by Damian Patkowski on Unsplash

Once an empty field
is a playground for the wind.
Grasses, they just grow.

As I sat down on a field with many patches of grass, I realized that just a few months ago this field was barren. Grasses, weeds, and small plants with tiny flowers had now grown on their own. The same lifeless field of red mud was not sprouting…