Alphabet Soup Minuscule

J.C. Scheff

Crabgrass over the Rose

I caught the softest glimpse of love.
Unbloomed, like a tight yellow rose,
That was hidden amongst the summer’s crab grass.

Many times I tried to catch it.
Now my fingers rest.
As I breathe with the 9 O’clock wind,
I release soft sighs that you might have noticed.

I watch, as the moon flirts with me.
He gently shows his round face, and then hides,
Behind the clouds, as if they were dancing linen sheets,
And then he leaves, turning my world black.

Within a moment I see him shine down on my face again.
I wonder if he too hides his ugliness when the clouds cover him?
Those fractional times of unseen that we possess.
But choose to hide instead.
Because perfection is so much better…
Little does he know that I would choose the crabgrass over the rose.


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