She's our neighbor, a quite fussy one. <br />She cuts her grass twice a week, <br />scarcely giving the blades chance to grow, <br />and it is the trimmest yard on the block, <br />standing out among the other yards; a near painting <br />frozen in a colorful time. <br /> <br />We call her teasingly the 'grass lady'. She has no idea, of course. <br />Sometimes I'm compelled to ask her to cut my lawn, <br />since she enjoys this act of cutting so much, <br />enjoys keeping the grass like a carpet that breathes and has breath, <br /> <br />But, I must say, I often wonder who will cut her grass when she's gone? <br />When her body loses its war, who will examine her terrific yard? <br />Who will keep it perfect, who will care to groom it <br />like a head of green hair? I often wonder as I watch her <br /> <br />behind the roaring lawnmower. When the world passes away, <br />grass, trees, rosebushes, us; will she wish she'd hugged her kids more, <br />cut less grass, and cut more frequently through the social ills <br />that steal kids, like shoplifters of the innocent? <br /> <br />Such a gorgeous lawn she has. <br />Quite manicured and near perfect, I'd say.<br /><br />Courtney Kane<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-grass-lady/
