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.