Category: on writing

Depressed Lawn

Imprint of Matthias in the lawn.

I came home yesterday to find my lawn depressed
With an indent of my child, it seems to have regressed
To a time when that small infant took a nap out in the shade
Staring up at pinecones while the other kids had played.

Stepping over sweet Matthias and crashing near his head
They wheel’d their wagons, trucks and cars across his bed.
He’s in that adorably cute, but not too clingy phase
Where we can set him down and know he stays.

Unless he’s on a blanket being dragged somewhere
And that only happens once-ish, and then there
He stays while Gianna’s being punished for kid-dragging
And then changed into a diaper that’s not sagging.

All the while my oldest drives his little pickup truck
Through our basil and our peppers before he gets it stuck
caged between tomatoes, he parks against the wall
I pause conversing with a friend so that I can call

out “Hey Duncan, don’t drive into the garden.”
I take a lunch-break-look around the yard and
add “don’t kill the plants, let the bugs eat–em.,
After all, if it weren’t for us, who’d feed-em.”

All of this in a long day lunch break passed
while underneath my blanket had been cast
A grass angel image that will quickly fade
Left in recollection and poetic form relayed.

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