My riding mower has been returned
repaired and ready to ride
but it has been too wet to attempt cutting.
This is the scene from my back door
not really grass
Yet I can imagine.
Indeed I can imagine.
Not quack grass and plantains
but lush spread of Kentucky blue
thick and cool between my toes.
Not weeds, no
but delicate, precious golden flowers
the finest dandelions in the province
the envy of everyone for miles around.
Until the ground is dry enough
to let the mower blades remove it all.
Just for a moment.
Just for today.