this lawn, this unkempt
pile of weeds.
it's green and green is
good.
thick in places, there's
something that may
be a tree,
or very strong bush
wanting to be one.
i'm sure there's poison
ivy out, there
as well as snakes,
and mice, and whatever
else hops or crawls
over or beneath
the painted fence.
i welcome them, as i sit
and read.
i've let it go so long that
it's grown on me.
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