Gone To Grass (Poetry)

I hung my heart upon a tree
in hope to find the sun
and feel its warmth drive out of me
the chill that lingered on.

Heart dangled like some sorry fruit
too pale and small to catch
thin light drip-filtered through the roof —
its thickened leafy thatch.

At last my heart fell to the ground
in grass it sought some peace
where creeping crawling things abound
and sorrow begs release.

Since worms chewed out its bitter core
there’s solace in decay
and what once hurt so sharp and sore
is rotted clean away.