The leaf blower makes no eye contact
or casual conversation.
He wears a mask to hide his identity.
He just trods along squares of sidewalks,
over holes and broken driveways
blowing leaves and dust
into nice little piles.
While his gas blower is going,
he thinks of changing things,
of putting mankind’s dilemmas
into nice little piles
the corruption of the world
into fertile soil,
and then planting a garden
of white, red, and yellow
Sign me up for some voluntary work. Fantastic !!
I will. 🙂🤟
Great poem and I love the leaf blowers thoughts as he works away … how many of us don’t feel the same!
Yes, and we all want to clean things up in our own way. 🙂
Thank you. 😎
An enchanting thought!
Thank you, Orvillewrong. 😊
I’m already plotting to overthrow the leaf-blower 🙂 enjoyed the humour but acknowledge the reality
I’ll let him know the next time he comes to my apartment complex. 🙂
Thanks, Luisa. Much appreciated.
Great post, My Friend! I do love the way you think!!! Bravo!
Thanks, again. RR. 😎