Looking out my back window today
I saw what this season of neglect has done to my yard
The weeds running wild, the shrubs untrimmed
And all the flowers I so lovingly planted,
Now stunted and wilted.
I turn and walk through a house
Strangely empty now
The walls bare, no toys scattered on the floor
And take some old shorts and a shirt from
a half-empty closet
I think I’ll spent the morning
Weeding, watering and trimming
When it comes to yards a few hours of hard work
Can repair most of the damage done by
A season of neglect
(7/17/05-9/15/05)
What I like here is that you use direct language that isn't burdened by artificial poetry, but the notion of 'neglect' needs to somehow reflect the human condition at a deeper level to make the poem come alive and mean something to your reader. Flip the ending maybe and make the damage darker, is an idea.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
John, after thinking over your comments I added another stanza which clarifies the theme of this poem