Wednesday, May 8, 2019

crooked heart

I love my neighbor from across the fences
Separating our twin lawns,
Across the expanse of white and picket.

My neighbor isn't crooked,
she's quite straight.
But I love her anyway.

I think of her when I am coaching
My morning glories to slowly encroach
her length of fence.

I guard her steps,
Watching each sneaker cautiously
carrying the autumn leaves
from the back deck to the shed.

I help her stay out of my business
By never asking her hers.

I let her grow,
And leave her be.

This seems to me the best sort of neighborly.

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