January 26, 2024Leaf Removal
I listen to my wife on the phone
explaining to Leaf Removal, Inc.
how we just can’t
pick up the leaves anymore.
It’s getting to that point she says
that we need someone, which really
isn’t true because we could slide
down the hill on our heels, rake
the leaves into piles, douse them
with charcoal lighter, and set
them ablaze. Then we’d just need
a metal tined rake to lean on,
a little luck to keep the house
from going up in flames, and with
the garden hose uncoiled, nozzle
dribbling like a mouth, watch
last year turn to smoke,
a slip, an ass tumble. Instead,
two rabbits leap out of the leaves,
zig zagging ahead of the dog
who forever believes he’s a hunter
with sharp white teeth and
the speed to stay stride for stride
with the memory of himself.
from #82 – Poetry Prize