Grasshopper

Little grasshopper, I found you in the bottom drawer of my bureau when I moved into my new place a few months back. I couldn't tell if you died sitting up straight, or if you were being still so I would not hurt you. I didn't know what to do. I don't mind bugs so much, but suddenly, you seemed really scary. A big leggy black-eyed thing just perching where I had intended to fold a sweatshirt. How did you get in there anyway?

I closed the drawer, still unsure.

I have not opened it since. In a perfect world, you hopped out through a hole in the back and are enjoying fall from underground. I don't want to prove my funfetti ending wrong. I just throw my sweatshirts here and there.

We're walkin' into the field.
We're walkin' into the forest.
The moon is before us up above.