My mower has not seen the light of day
since April, the last time that the grass was trimmed,
and in its absence life’s had chance to play.
One look, you might decide the scene is grim,
but keep an open mind, once more survey –
the land’s awake to nature’s joyful hymn:
goldfinches seeking seeds as crickets sing,
and dandies dance before the bats take wing.

I thought I’d try a poem with an ottava rima rhyming form today (abababcc), and having been in the garden beforehand, this tumbled out.
(07.06.25)

© Ben Quant 2025
Photo by Andrea Lightfoot on Unsplash