a days work

the man
in the purple t-shirt
with the leaf blower
blowing one leaf
down the sidewalk to the truck,
politely stops
to let you enter your house.
the smell of gasoline
and oil
burning fills
the air. the heavy
machine idles
and vibrates in his hands.
when you go in, he fires
it up again,
increases the power,
him and the blower,
louder than a jet
pushing the solitary leaf
down the sidewalk.