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
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