Late Spring. Afternoons
as empty as fruit trees no lon-
ger blossoming. And
walking, like prayer,
goes nowhere, but it’s still good
to do. Leave the road,
says John. Take the long
way home. Talk to the mowers.
Dawn to dusk, they mow.
Late Spring. Afternoons
as empty as fruit trees no lon-
ger blossoming. And
walking, like prayer,
goes nowhere, but it’s still good
to do. Leave the road,
says John. Take the long
way home. Talk to the mowers.
Dawn to dusk, they mow.