Tuesday, July 29, 2025

Sweep me


 Sweep me


Mostly it’s just the rake

and me

Out in the back alone

doing a semblance 

of a waltz among

the pine needles


she is so lithe in my touch

Anticipating my every move 

Oh she’s been all 

I’ve ever imagined

 


 It’s a merciful thing

to sweep with a rake 

A fellow could die

from all the leaves

he was dancing with

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