“Grass” – By Carl Sandburg

Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work—
I am the grass; I cover all.
And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Shovel them under and let me work.
Two years, ten years, and passengers ask the conductor:
What place is this?
Where are we now?

I am the grass.
Let me work.

Pile the bodies high…shovel them under… and let me work Remember Pol Pot’s stack of skulls. The holocaust that happened after Sandburg’s poem .Man’s continuing inhumanity to man.

Our memories of the scars of war are short-lived. Are they? We merely shovel them under. We grow grass over them. We let the grass grow under our feet. Otherwise after Austerlitz, Waterloo, why did Gettysburg,Ypres and Verdun happen?

The grass covers them all , like ‘”winter covering the earth in forgetful snow” (The Waste Land’ -by T.S.Eliot). The grass has work to do- of covering our sins, the fruits of our foolish actions.

The tourists are here. Only the grass knows what the tourists are asking about :What place is this? Where are we now?