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May 10, 2015

 

 

So still the blades of

grass on Springside,

that welcomed home

at close of day,

the one reliable

in his routine,

who came and went

with easy sway.

 

So watchful in

anticipation;

the blades of grass

searched with intent.

But now sit so lonely,

and respectful;

missing familiar steps

that came and went.

 

So still the blades of

grass on Springside,

now it’s sunk in

they’ll never hear

the engine stopping,

the car door shutting,

as raindrops, for each,

produce a tear.

 

So sad, the blades of

grass on Springside,

for they feel too,

their time is nigh.

They know that sound;

it’s all too familiar,

as the lawn mower

comes ever closer by!

 

 

 

 

 

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