Last year we laid squares of sod
Down in our bare yard. At first,
Pale, slender spears grew tall and sparse.
When the wind blew, the blades bowed.
Evenings, we watered. And once, we mowed.
But growing grass is a tough road,
Florida dirt is mostly sand. In August
Any signs of a green lawn withered.
Come winter, the two oak trees smothered
The dirt with a dried-out leafy cover.
I raked and bagged, raked and bagged,
Scratching the tatty ground beneath the leaves.
This morning, on the cusp of spring,
Nascent green blades broke through the earth.
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