The Lady Down the Lane
The marigolds are all gone;
Her lawn is overgrown,
dandelions roar amongst the blades,
as crickets escape, leaf
to leaf.
The new neighbors never mow
and marigolds were too quaint.
When the early light
slips in my morning tea,
the merry, gold color
sets me free
like the books we used to read.
I have a few still on my shelves
from the lady down the lane.
Every so often I take one down
and begin to read again.
This winter when I took one down
as the cold had crept too near
between the pages near the end
pressed marigolds. Next year.
March 14, 2020
The Lady Down the Lane contest
Sponsored by Craig Cornish
Copyright © Jack Webster | Year Posted 2020
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