The Landscaper Poem by Jennifer Parks
The Landscaper
Dirt stuck under my fingernails
grass covering me head-to-toe
sweat dripping from my forehead
so hot I can hardly breathe
smell of gas, grass, and dirt
combining with the odor of me
but, it makes me sigh and smile
because my work shows behind me.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Topic(s) of this poem: landscape ,work
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5/3/2024 9:10:13 PM # 1.0.0.1119
