Our neighbor is a lawn fanatic.Mown religiously,
His yard is a perfect field of
Green grass.
Our yard is a perfect field.
We have a rotary push mower.
We let the purple clover grow
Wherever it wants.
We let the blue forget-me-nots
Run wild
With the wild lupines,
Johnny-Jump-Ups,
And other nongrass infidels.
I imagine our neighbor
(A friendly, good neighbor)
Out in the dawn light
(While we're sleeping)
Plucking clover shoots out of his grass,
Scowling at our rampant yard,
Thinking that we are friendly, good neighbors,
But that we really need to get religion
When it comes to lawn care.
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