Spectators

Taking a walk around the neighborhood,
I see an older fellow wiping blood 
from the arms and seats of his lawn chairs.

I slow down to watch, express my dismay
and concern.  “Oh, nothing much
to worry about…just 

the usual, just the everyday
mess.” He turns away to resume
the cleanup.  I notice the pile

of bloody towels beside him
on his still-brown, slow-greening
lawn. I shrug, then head home

for supper
and the evening news.
It’s spring, I guess.

Of course that’s what it is: spring.
The world gagging on blood
as it tries for renewal. Some of us

strolling by evidence of the bleeding,
taking quick notice,
shaking our heads,

then heading home for
a quick word
from our sponsors.