(63) The rustic smell of my ancestry is piercing.

(63) The rustic smell of ancestry is piercing.

Look at me grass-green and evenly cut,
the rudimentary and rustic smell of my
ancestry is piercing and profound,
they pass me for prosperity and plenty,
I don’t shape beyond a particular size,
People tread upon me, yet I don’t grudge,
I am pitiable and beautiful,
Bold and brave,
for tiny tots and twaddlers
teenagers and paramours,
My being is the bed of roses,
the rustic smell of ancestry is piercing
Piercing and prolonging.