the red wheel barrow

i don't own a wheel barrow,

but i've often

thought of buying one.

not because of the poem, 

by William Carlos Williams,

but just because

it would make a good

addition to the yard.

it would be a bright red one,

with wooden handles.

something shiny

to prop beside 

the stone bird bath.

i wouldn't put dirt

or mulch in it, no leaves

or ground debris.

i'd keep it clean, stored

away in the shed,

but on sunny days

i'd wheel it out, especially,

if i had guests.

inevitably,  they'd stare at it, 

while sipping on a drink,

and say, oh, 

you have a wheel barrow.

nice.

to which i'd reply proudly,

yes.