Sunday, May 15, 2016

MOWING THE FIELDS OF THE REPUBLIC















I mow my lawn
 

in concentric squares 
shrinking green tufts

into a disappearing island
But no lawn is an island
why not past my boundaries
to the neighbor’s yard

I'll need to take time off from work

as I race up and down

suburban streets

connecting rivers of lawn
with the Capitol lawn,
New England town greens.
and Kentucky bluegrass
which requires a stately pace
 
to please pampered thoroughbreds.

In the midwest coliseums

100 yards are precisely coifed 

Is it any wonder artificial turf 
was abandoned 
and returned to grass and earth?
Where are the dreams in artificial turf?

My vast grid 
extends to summer lawns of memory
front yards of modest Ohio towns

and to graveyards of my grandparents.

I mow Little League fields
in diagonal textures
the kind you see on during the baseball highlights.

I'm left mowing in the dark

one giant island of the great republic

with rolling lawns
--from sea to shining sea.

1 comment:

  1. Perhaps compulsive, but not aimless. From sea to shining sea, your lawn mower rocks! Love the artificial turf talk!
    ~ Mary

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