Without the insects buzzing in the grass
There will be no grass.
Without the grass bending under the treading cows
There will be no cows.
Without the cows lowing as the farmers call
There will be no farmers.
Without the farmers cupping down the tender fruit
There will be no fruit.
Without the grass and the cows and the farmers and the fruit
There will be no food.
Without the food there will be no one left to remember what it was to be alive.
But we close our ears to the silence in the grass.
