‘let the damn grass grow’
i call you down from the sky
the landscapers drown me out
their mowers overpowering my words
what is left to say anyway?
that i miss you? that i wish you were here?
that i wish your granddaughter knew you?
that she would put curls in your hair?
you already know all these things and more
10 years makes the thought process quite redundant
yet still i call you down
time after time after time.
the truth is i buried you once
and have never stopped.
this morning i had hoped for an easy walk
you and i and invisible sentiments
the leaf blowers blow away my thoughts
i never despised a sunny morning more than
the one caging my shadow now
and as the lawns rejoice their fresh manicures
and as the joggers rejoice their healthy hearts
and as the world rejoices another turn
of synchronized chaos
i curse it all.
© Copyright Joseph A. Pinto. All Rights Reserved.
Knock back my poetry collection ‘A Distilled Spirit: pained prose from a bar,’ now on Amazon and Barnes & Noble.