Blades of Grass

light fog sits thick
atop an empty field, stained
with the night's tears;
its blades bent under
the weight of their sadness,
waiting for the first rays
of sunlight to cut
through the mist
and loosen the muscles
of their bent backs,
releasing them to stand straight
and carry their burdens
unbowed by the night's cares -
basking in the glow of the sun.
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