Two Poems

Mowing the Spring Lawn

After two weeks’ absence, the clover is high as a fence.
The weeds are white-tipped frills of grass.

The leaves on the tress are

there

in design fully equipped to start cutting down
the birds and

suntanning owls.

Let me get started with the engine roaring
chocked up
with chokes
and full of vitamin E.

The sun hits my back in the back
yard
with a gentle displacement of rages.

 

Spring Green

I’m impressed with God
’s ability to turn the old hedge
into a congregation of infants.

Published in the March 10, 2017 issue: 
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William Meyer lives in Beaumont, Texas.

Also by this author
Two Ducks

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