Mower Man
The freshly cut scent
from the long
green
leafed
summer.
A reminiscent smell
lying down
all
lazy
day
long
with nothing else
better to do
than say
she loves me
she loves me not
braiding daisy chain crowns,
and rolling in the grass.
The throttle accelerates the senses
engine oil
smudges
my blue jeans
igniting a spark
under
the green fiery sun.
Avie.
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