Spring Falls Down
Spring, who cares?
Red clay mud reigns.
Mosquitoes reborn.
Hot, cold, make up your mind.
Yard work breaks my aching back.
Last fall’s leaves hide sneaky branches.
Pollen blizzard covers everything.
Birth of ticks, May flies, and blood sucking gnats.
“Basketball’s over. Get outside,” she bellows.
“Hose down the house, waterproof the deck, spread manure.”
Fishing season starts, casting with the fellows.
The grass greens. Birdies begin to sing.
Heating bills bow to cool breezes.
Lent ends. Chocolate is back.
Lay in hammock—unwind.
Give ’way garb I scorn.
Soft April rain.
Spring, I care.
“Mow the lawn. The grass is too high.
Trim the hedge.” I can only sigh.
By: Rick Bylina
4/26/19
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