A Hole in the Prairie

Shave me down
and let my colors fade
while the day passes
unnoticed.

My kin stand tall
above me and
they sigh in the wind
while I tickle the
ankles of my trampers.

Three-sided blades
manicured my wilderness.
Only the bees still visit.

But they are workers
with a narrow intent
and are quick to
move on to the
pretty-headed stems.

Those who used to
plunge and sing
amidst my jungle
of strands are now
a whisper on the
frontier.

The only pleasantries
I maintain are
the rain falling at
my roots and the
hand-holding children
who fill my center.
But only for a moment.