#421: A Curtal Sonnet (à la “Pied Beauty”) on April 16, 2022

Not my backyard. Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Glory be to mowing right before the rains come–
For black clouds as dark as coal just so far away;
For the vacuum cleaner purr of my electric mower;
Not a scent of gasoline in the air as I race against time;
The lawn patchy and poofed in spots where grass grows uneven;
Now smoothed by my efforts to even out the tufts and scrub.

All things green and bright and grey come together now;
Whatever is blooming, blossoms (even after last week’s snow?)
With blues, purples, yellows, whites; ablaze and darken;
Clouds gather girth as I finish my meditative labor. Rain:
Let it come!


1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

One response to “#421: A Curtal Sonnet (à la “Pied Beauty”) on April 16, 2022

  1. Let it come. Beautiful.

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