Yard Work
By John R. Greenwood
Musty smell of melted snow now gone
Green metal rake poised against the white siding
Rests ready to pile winter’s shed into
Mounded heaps of maple and stick
Awaiting strong arms and time
Saturday mornings run fast
In April’s rush to bloom May flowers
Tall brown bags stuffed full
Parked obediently at road’s edge
Spring birds refreshed seem sharper in song
Bee and bug visits - singular and erratic
Unsure what cloudy afternoons have in store
Dry leather gloves hide shyly
In back corner garage darkness
Tulip bulbs long neglected
Poke up defiantly in places years forgotten
Life’s reminder
That flower tender, nor weakest child,
shall be discounted, nor counted out, nor given up
Each spring, each returning flower, each corner yard-surprise discovered
Pushes skyward
One year more.
J.R.G.4.28.2010
I love the very first line. Oh, the anticipation. : )
ReplyDeleteawesome piece.
ReplyDeleterich imagery and smooth flow. I was looking over your shoulder all the way.
ReplyDeleteNice. The whole feel of the poem and your blog is so soothing. :)
ReplyDeleteThanks for the kind words all. Please stop by and visit anytime.
ReplyDelete