"Byron Rd-Columbia, SC"

(Road to Home)

Outside my door frame
Summer’s gaily colored
Party clothes lay freshening
Upon countless Spring
Gardens

Neighbors call to each other
As they pass by

Dogs indifferent to human affairs
Touch noses through
Diamond patterned
Fence

Friends talk of gardening

The importance
Of green lawns
Free from impudent weeds
Holding significant social
Gravity

All manner of flying creatures
Pursue and are pursued
In frantic haste
Before passing moments
Of beauty
Fade

Youth of the year
Wasted not before experience
As seasons never
Flower alike

Each perfect
Unique

Poetry of suburban gardens
Framed by lawnmowers huffing
Seeking perfection in right angles

Miss the beauty of haikus
Of unshorn
Dandelions

House Martins take
Grass clippings insulating
Fresh homes for fresh babies

Warbling to each mornings
Sunrise

Dogwoods and Crepe Myrtle
Tenderly brush leaves
As old
Married couples do

Touching with nothing to prove
Except
Warmth
In each other’s
Existence

Spring has birthed
Summer’s robust self
Among brick homes of
Shade tree respectability

Along Byron Road
It seems appropriate
A poet should
Live on this
green swathed
road

-Fin-

DS Baker