when will the mowing be done?

apples of the earth

the motor stutters and misses
the blades strike sparks off stones
he mows the lawn to dullness and straw
while he dreams of crystal forests,
of garden glades and Gaia
in the tunnel of the last afternoon
when the angels of air fall burning to earth
and the angels of rain are lost at sea
the mowers will rust in the meadows of ash
and no-one will need to mow

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