Quickened

Quickened

Sweet smells of lush green follow the cutting,
the slicing of ground cover trimmed like carpets,
clippings strewn like straw from a broken bale.
We hale the coming of May, the first mown lawn,
a welcome respite after the clang of shovels,
the silent whispers of snow. Each year we know
it will come to this, pray it comes sooner.
We inhale this elixir of rapacious growth,
ravenous after seasons of slow death.
We are quickened by each mower's slash
and the aroma of fresh hay that follows.

© Kåre Enga (20.may.2017) [174.89] /PPRT43/

11 lines

Orginally posted in " Prompt#43 "Quickened""  
in a forum "Plum petals, Roseberry thorns"