Friday, August 26, 2016

Lawn Gnome's Parlor

Between Sarah and nature there's
Always a race to transform things.
It's a friendly competition.
Sarah buys things already old,

Half, three-quarters fallen apart,
And places them conveniently
Outside in the sun and the wind.
She eyes them and makes plans for them.

They may be repainted, restained,
Taken more apart, put to new
Uses, stood on their heads, improved
By whimsy, glints, and ornament.

The battered become the transformed.
But she has no grudge against air,
Star-frosted nights, monsoon flash floods,
The cracking desert summer sun.

Her prettified ruins are left
To develop their own designs,
And they do, and I perch on them,
Her pet, and slowly surrender.

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