let it go

i feel no shame about

the yard,

the unraked leaves, the vines

crawling

along the fence

and wall.

there is no residue

catholic guilt about the

shape it's in.

no angst about

the unpulled weeds,

or in not trimming

what needs to be trimmed.

i smile at

the saintly statue tipped

on it's side,

the water bowl

gone dry.

i'm more accepting now.

life is often

in strange disarray,

and so am I.