It's all so simple really. I stand
at the kitchen window peeling
potatoes. Red maple, white birch
border our patch, green and growing.
On the road, a John Deere tractor
sputters by, kicks up gravel and dust.
I can't see your eyes, shaded by
your Red Sox cap as you push
the mower in neat rows
across the lawn, seed the air
with the sweet scent of cut grass.
I dry my hands and cup a ladybug,
open the screen door to free her
outside on a bed of marigolds.
I hear the small birds
at the feeder. I hear song.
--Nancy Ann Schaefer
[Photo of Douglas and Killian mowing].
