Marvin Lurie


It's the time of year between cold and house flies.
We can leave the back door open.
I sit in the garden reading.
Birds sing their spring arias.
Our dog, Tasha, goes in and out.
Clouds amble by
covering and uncovering the sun.
The tower rose reaches up over its tower.
Peony flowers are faded.
They don't die from cuts in Medicaid.
They live out their natural lives.
This afternoon I'll cut off their drooping blooms,
mend a leak in the garden hose with a coupler,
wind new string in the trimmer.
The few small things I need to do today

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