Dodo-Butt

A lawn of stark grass as plain as can be be'th not worthy of much poetry what nature intended is just fine for me stray milkweed, wild flowers, the odd crooked tree swaying in breeze as they reach for the sun I haven't the heart to cut down ev'ry one why should I groom that which not need'th grooming the earth put them there needs it not my fine tuning. as the grasshoppers leap and the butterflies flit I hear and I smell and observe as I sit But cities are picky and neighbors complain so I guess that I'll just conform and refrain.

damn the fungus remedies all work at first then more withering more falling over more....death. they are so tender like babies they emerge and grow some will thrive they make me proud others need coddling and end in sadness so I start more and care for them too.

Yesterday I arose about 8 am, did my morning rounds. At a little before ten I decided to go outside to check the weather, a few minutes later I was joined by Tim and we sat and discussed the garden. a little after ten the mail lady pulled up loudly talking on her cell (as usual) I turned my head and expected to hear her pull away. instead I heard "hey, what's going on at the factory?" I replied "I don't know" "Is there anyone over there?" "no, I don't think so" "well, it's on fire." Tim and I, both shocked, jumped from our seats and ran to see. The factory was indeed spouting a thick plume of grey smoke. we ran back to inform the mail lady