A Mound

Today I found, right on the ground, A giant pile of dirt - a mound - Right where I walk, but did I balk? No, since I still could walk around. I was surprised, but I surmised That gardeners had been apprised Of lack of soil with which to toil So it was left, as they'd advised. This afternoon was opportune To pass that spot and there was strewn A tiny trace of what took place This early morning, 12th of June. The mound I'd passed had vanished fast, Perhaps onto the gardens cast, Its mystery now history And certainly far from the last.