lawn at dawn

Framed by our kitchen window
he would ride his garden tractor
around his yard next door
cut the grass in casual swoops
around the tree
along the wire link fence
monotonous passes
smiling at some thought
contained within
the white sound of the tractor.

This spring someone else
cut the silent lawn
and in the morning
our kitchen window
paints a green sun dappled
emptiness.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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