Front Yard Poem by Frank Avon

Front Yard



I look out our window.
I step out our front door

into green
into blossoms
into growth

alive
surviving
thriving

I breathe deep,
my feet tingle
in the grass.

Will it last?
Is it ever-
lasting?

I walk out into the growth,
my flesh tingles
in the green.

Tuesday, November 11, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: grass
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