WEBVTT

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"Once in Autumn."

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Once in autumn I
saw the sun rise

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in the wrinkles of a tree like
passion on an old man's face.

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My father armed
with shears came out

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and trimmed the little
shrubs to death.

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And always in a wild
backyard, my father

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stepped upon his flesh.

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Those blind galoshes struck
the Earth and tough as trucks

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his hands ran loose killing
the plants they couldn't name.

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A lawn or passion if ignored may
rise around a house like fire.

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Son, my father said,
fight back the garden

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with its big green hips.

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I fought a beast
of leaves instead.

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But with a scowl, my iron
dad cut down the grass

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to a proper flame.

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He said too many flowers
and then though with a hose

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I'd been their stem, my scowling
conscience cut them off.