Moss

Sitting

Oma’s garden

On a big rock.

Cleaning,

Scraping,

Tearing

Dark, green moss

Away

Helping Oma

Sun shines warmly,

Happily

‘Nein Johanna, was machst du da?!'

Däddy cries.

Oma wants the moss in the garden

Awful feeling wells in my throat

Try to scrape it back in place, 

Where it once sprung from the rock,

The moss