Lawn mowers as homily to verses of
fescue, bermuda and kentucky blue grass
green with obedience and belief when
blades tithe the aroma of devotion
Diane Puterbaugh
dputerbaugh
Five years ago I quit my job to write a novel, freelance and work on a chapbook. I have had a few poems in some online journals and my chapbook is at a local publisher right now. I belong to Jackson Writer's Club, an eclectic group of supportive creatives. My novel, Sketching Birds, is about 3/4 done. This is my first poetry marathon though I have completed a couple running marathons. I live with my husband named Ron, a cat named Cleo and a boxer puppy named Pippa. I like to garden, hike and read, too, but don't do enough of any of them, because, well...novel, husband and puppy!
Suburban Pastoral #5
The lake’s east side has become neglect
An untamed field yields to a bulldozer
A week ago there was a riot of
thistles and queen anne’s lace, but
now even the mud is tired
Noon time heat siphons any magic
the developer forgot, but lots are
still for sale with great schools and
easy access to the interstate
Suburban Pastoral #4
At the tree convention
an agreement was reached
The sugar maple said
Let’s not throw our coins in the fountain, let’s plant them in the reeds by the river bank.
The silver birch added
I do not want to be a money tree, but a forest of promises.
The pin oak concurred
All in favor, please raise your branches.
Suburban Pastoral #3
Training wheels just removed
a small red tank top with
Walmart sandals pedals
rushing ’round and ’round
until summer evaporates
just past the corner
Suburban Pastoral #2
Day lillies in June
day tripping
dropping pretention
and petals
Hello, America!
narrow and rushing
stubborn and tempestuous
despite such poor soil
Suburban Pastoral #1
Alchemy in the sun and blue
the grass and dew
my neighbor’s windchime
silent for once while another’s
lawn is turning into another coast
as the sprinkler dutifully
oscillates in morning meditation