Poetry. About a dirty yard.

A Bunch of Dirt in the Yard*

By Paul Klusman

Let me live in a house by the side of the road

With a bunch of dirt in the yard.

Dirt that is sandy, dirt that is brown,

Dirt that is barren and hard.

I would not mind if it even grew weeds,

The grass it does retard.

Let me live in a house by the side of the road

With a bunch of dirt in the yard.

I see out my window my neighbor Gary

Standing with hose in hand,

Sprinkling water and spilling seed

There upon the land.

His yard green, luscious, and full.

Now active he works so hard

At my house where I live by the side of the road

With a bunch of dirt in the yard.

And now out the back towards the east,

Greeting the morning sun,

I see patches of dirt slowly growing

Where once there was none.

What grass remains I shall hold out hope,

This grass I cherish and guard,

Behind my house at the side of the road

With a bunch of dirt in the yard.

*This is a tribute to a friend of mine who struggles to grow grass in his front yard and his neighbor similarly embarrassed who tries to help