A shamelessly optimistic lawn mower by Charles Carr

A shamelessly optimistic lawn mower

May steps out of the shower
in a soft white shirt with holes,
the sky as far as I can see;
spring fiddles with ignition,
the trill of frogs, trees manage
only a squint of green,
birds and bees are busy
with so much on their minds
and no clue where to begin;
a dogwood blooms
like a crowd of children,
like the days when life was easy
as catching a ball or an engine
starts on the third pull of cord,
a lost care in the length of a yard,
my shadow tugs at the seam
as if to see for itself
can you ever go back
but makes it exactly no further
than a breeze like a woman
with the flower of fresh cut grass
in her hands.

by Charles Carr

Twitter: @selfrisinmojo

Editor’s Note: A poem with this title deserves publication. The delightful metaphors don’t hurt, either.

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