Grateness

An Observation of Place

August 3, 2007

 The Grate was shaped like a hill. When it rained, the tears of the sky slid over the Grate and formed a pool under itself. The Grate was surrounded, surrounded by a sea of grass. It is as if the concrete plains got flooded by grass, leaving the Grate as an island cut off from the sidewalk and streets. The Grate was old. Old, rusty, and experienced … probably witnessed many events.

The Grate was dented, probably because children stamped and stomped on the poor Grate repeatedly. Why do children always have to touch or jump on every uniquely shaped object they see? Even I have the urge to stomp on it a few times!

The Grate was musical, when I tapped the Grate with my pencil, I heard a sound. Perhaps the Grate was not the source, but I think I heard a bell.

 The Grate supported life. In the water below the Grate swam some kind of larva. Above the Grate marched ants across the Grate like a bridge. Even between the bars of the Grate lay the remains of an old spider web. The Grate was easy to overlook as a simple background object, but if you take a moment and look at the Grate, or anything closely, you can see its true beauty or even its purpose. 

Author’s Note: The Grate and Great are two different words. A Grate is a vent in the ground that takes water to the sewer. In the poem, I capitalized the Grate whenever the word “Grate” was used because in this case the Grate was very Great, indeed.                    

       A. James Stone III