The Widow Next Door

Our neighbor’s husband had died one day The rumor was it was suicide My father made me go cut her grass It was over one hundred degrees outside I hadn’t seen her in about six months Ever since he had passed away I was hoping she wouldn’t come out to pay me Cause I wouldn’t know what to say When you’re sixteen years young, thirty seems real old Though I knew she looked real fine All the teenage boys in the neighborhood Tried to catch her sunbathing all the time I was working in my gym shorts Like I said, that day was warm Even though she didn’t have much of a yard I was sweat’n up a storm I could sense her eyes upon me I was in football playing shape I thought I better put my shirt back on But I was a minute or two too late She stepped out on the patio With a pitcher of cold iced tea And said, “Take a break; Come on over here And share some of this with me.” I guess she was gett’n lonely I never knew anyone to visit her house I could see that she had no bra on Underneath her flimsy blouse I’ll spare you the gory details I’ll just say that that day got hotter I never told anyone about the widow next door But, you know, I never forgot her That summer, her grass was always cut short I did it twice a week My parents paid me a buck and a half Thinking I was being awful sweet The moving van pulled up to her house Early in the fall I was on my way to the high school field To practice for football She blew me a subtle kiss And waved to my folks good-bye She drove down the street and out of my life With a tear drop in my eye