The grass is so green it is blue, Like I’ve put my face to a sea, Or my naked belly to a lake. -It tastes real and holy. No—look, all around me Is a softness made out of air. I can never stop saying it. I bury my fingers in the grass, In the hay, almost hoping the sky Will fall down around us. I want to breathe in all the Wonders of the earth. Blossoms and thorns, blown leaves Wiggling beneath my feet. Maybe the sun will catch my eye, But I need to return To this green, this comfort Beneath the wide and open sky.

• Anne Sexton