ONE SHOVEL FOR THE
GREEN LAWN OF LOVE
Morning again, at the one-headed shower,
at the apple-grove water-pump, near the
parked tractor-mower still ready for haying.
The fields have their rows now, as things go
in and other things grow out! The crop-fairy
is already hard at work. We move so slowly
it is - by contrast - a surreptitious deal.
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