Springs Tempests
In early spring some years ago,
I awoke to a shocking scene,
for angry winds chose to blow
across my lovely lawn of green.
Through the window I did see,
scattered across my whole front lawn,
my gutter covers had been freed,
from the gutters that they'd been on.
Then I looked at the neighborhood,
scanned all up and down my road,
boxes, plastic, pieces of wood,
geez, did someone's garbage explode?
It was a spring tempest that trashed our hood;
someone's soccer goal hung from my dogwood.
2-8-2023
Spring Is Not All Poetry Contest
Michelle Faulkner
Copyright © M. L. Kiser | Year Posted 2023
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