Small Backyard
It’s a small backyard
I’ve watched for years
from an upstairs window
while chained to a computer.
Whatever the weather
the old widow was always
planting in spring
watering in summer
raking in fall
shoveling in winter
but the yard’s quiet now
the only traffic
a resident squirrel
heading for the oak
over the tall grass
the widow’s heir
has stopped mowing.
She told her son
you don’t have to garden
but please mow the grass
rake the leaves and
shovel the snow
or I’ll shake you
at midnight
the rest of your life.
Donal Mahoney
