Hooked on Goosegrass
Small fuzzy balls of infinite stickiness
Designed to catch a coat and steal a ride,
Naturally impudent, inclined to mock and test
The patience of the carrier, sorely tried.
I slipped and fell into their green embrace;
Struggled to rise, hair caught by stubborn seeds,
Black curls threaded with stars of an alien space
Cheeks scratched by soft but obdurate weeds
The local name is goosegrass and it looked
As if I were the goose, to be so hooked.
My fingers combed; the desperate globules clung.
I shook my head; my actions were in vain.
I headed home, and sought a brush that hung
Beside the bed, to rid my unruly mane
Of its green stowaways. I left our tree
And stood outside. I brushed, then brushed some more.
Directing all my strokes away, to see
The seeds go scattering on the forest floor.
Next year a nest of sticky grass would sprout
Just where we’d tangle with it, going out.
I called the cats, and when they gathered round
I used my charms, coaxing them to play,
Rolling, their fur sweeping the leaf-strewn ground,
Then sent them leaping and frolicking on their way
To a distant hedgerow, seeds all tucked aboard.
When they reached the fields they’d stop and rub their fur
On a fence, a stone, a stile, and cast abroad
Their passengers. And then it did occur
To me, we’d done, cats and my devious mind
Exactly what the goosegrass had designed.
Designed to catch a coat and steal a ride,
Naturally impudent, inclined to mock and test
The patience of the carrier, sorely tried.
I slipped and fell into their green embrace;
Struggled to rise, hair caught by stubborn seeds,
Black curls threaded with stars of an alien space
Cheeks scratched by soft but obdurate weeds
The local name is goosegrass and it looked
As if I were the goose, to be so hooked.
My fingers combed; the desperate globules clung.
I shook my head; my actions were in vain.
I headed home, and sought a brush that hung
Beside the bed, to rid my unruly mane
Of its green stowaways. I left our tree
And stood outside. I brushed, then brushed some more.
Directing all my strokes away, to see
The seeds go scattering on the forest floor.
Next year a nest of sticky grass would sprout
Just where we’d tangle with it, going out.
I called the cats, and when they gathered round
I used my charms, coaxing them to play,
Rolling, their fur sweeping the leaf-strewn ground,
Then sent them leaping and frolicking on their way
To a distant hedgerow, seeds all tucked aboard.
When they reached the fields they’d stop and rub their fur
On a fence, a stone, a stile, and cast abroad
Their passengers. And then it did occur
To me, we’d done, cats and my devious mind
Exactly what the goosegrass had designed.