I have meant to mow for many a day,
To groom the grass that grows up in my yard
Standing now shaggy as my scalp when uncombed,
Steal from the snake the shelter it uses
And bare to the birds a bounty concealed.
I made up my mind to master that task,
Was by weeping greeted when I set out with purpose,
Husband of earth hurt to the heart
That a precious patch of sky-wife be pruned.
Wedded to wife, I well know such pain,
Stayed from my struggle 'til the sun emerged,
Glaring too gladly on green-lingered hills
That more often moan brown and dry in this month
Than stand in a splendor of emeralds' sheen.
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