Dispatch From The Field

Day 3: Approaching normalcy.
The histamines are in retreat;
My sinuses are nearly free
Of mucus, like an empty seat
At rush hour on a crosstown bus.
The lawn is mocking, beckoning:
Don’t mind the weeds, come play with us!
It’s not their day of reckoning
Just yet. Though they’ve defeated me
In spring’s first skirmish, this is war.
Grow, broadleaf, massive as a tree!
That’s what my Fiskars Stand-up’s for.


About Michael

Silliness is good
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