Cut

Blades move in a blur
Speed of light unseen
Wheels turning
Movement carrying me on my way
Back and forth
Striped lines Mark
My passing.
Tiny specks of white float by,
Daylight stars of dogwood
Cottony butterflies
Caught on the wind
Aroma of earth surrounds.
The hounds roll like children
Back scratched on sharp grass cut
In joy of a scent beyond my senses
Fragile noses alert in air
Seeking death crushed and hidden
Amphibious form
Gives a short span of rubbing,
Bodies writhe in joy as
I see their toothy smiles
Their bliss of a moment
On Fresh cut grass.
A view of accomplishment
Under cloudy skies
The rain will wash away
Dirt marked furrows
And the dandelion will once more rise
To mock the cutters mind
I will see you next time
Perhaps you will get me then,
Springing up like a flag
As I turn and walk away.

Thoughts on a day spent mowing the lawn, the unfortunate demise of a frog and the mocking salute of the dandelion that springs back up after the tires moved on…I think I heard it laugh at me…like a child saying haha, you missed me, you missed me.

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4 thoughts on “Cut

  1. By the end of summer I will tire of that chore, then it will be the falling leaves to rake and burn. Bonfires and cool nights😊 the world is filled with magic, it just depends on how we choose to view things and I love to laugh as the pups scratch and rub on the new cut grass (till I see the reason why…poor frog)😎thanks Louis☀️

    Liked by 1 person

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