make haste,
the grass-blower approaches
racing the northerly breeze
pushing Han waters ever faster
tumbing bags of Doritos by
slowing vehicles up wind hilly climbs
lizards lose their hiding places
bottles show their ugly faces
so sad to see no hay sacks in sight
hark,
i hear a buzzing like bees
from gas tubes of blowing motors
even swooping gnat birds fly off
riverside sparrows sip off their cough
the harbringer blower sweeping the road
leaves on my sandwich, dust in my eye
before i start to cry
i must be on my way
10-15-13
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