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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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