The lawnmower and I race around the yard
Swathing the week’s worth of green
Thrusting up despite the hail and wind
Of late April.
Round and round I go, the smell of
Green grass rich and wet,
Flumes of green pushed out the side
Making circles within circles.
Baby leaves push out of brown limbs
Trees coming back to life after winter
Now brave enough to chance another frost
At the edge of May.
The last circling finally cut
As the drops splat against the mower
And my face, coming black and gusty
Cold now, I head inside,
Watching the storm move in
Over newly flat green.
Neal Lemery 4/10