Mowing the Spring Lawn

After two weeks’ absence, the clover is high as a fence.

The weeds are white-tipped frills of grass.

The leaves on the tress are

there

in design fully equipped to start cutting down

the birds and

suntanning owls.

Let me get started with the engine roaring

chocked up

with chokes

and full of vitamin E.

The sun hits my back in the back

yard

with a gentle displacement of rages.

Spring Green

I’m impressed with God

’s ability to turn the old hedge

into a congregation of infants.