Saturday, May 5, 2012

Deere John

A lawnmower poem this morning since they woke me up at 7:30 and literally have not stopped since. Please don't think this is a good poem, like one forthcoming in any of my books. I mean, the meter is WAY off--but I did try to get some feminine and slant rhymes in to mix it up. Gosh I'm a nerd.


Deere John

All day the mowers hum
making me deaf and numb.
I can’t hear the cardinals
warning each other of hawks,
I can’t trace the sweet smells
of coneflower or prairie phlox.

The dust billows over my fence
trailing butterflies torn from solace.
Thick exhaust makes me swoon
as my head fills like a balloon.

From dawn to dusk, and a little later,
I feel trapped inside my house,
unaware of what I’m missing.
If only I had a sledgehammer
to carefully, subtly announce—
look at what we’re missing.

2 comments:

Sunnyside Dru said...

There can never be too much land between me and my mowing neighbors..our milk cow goes into the front yard to mow it tomorrow. Yup, it's the country!

Desert Dweller said...

That's great! What my area lacks in lawns and mowers / trimmers / edgers, it makes up for in big cowboy trucks and harley's. But lately, the sounds of quail, and constant movements of hummingbirds and roadrunners, overrules even the outlaw set!