I don’t know why… But I think of you when I mow lawns.

It’s strange. I know.

I think about where you might be right now. I hope you will do more with the deck you’ve been dealt than I have mine. Most of all, I hope you never have to support yourself by mowing lawns!

I question if I made the right decision. A decision I never allowed you to be part of. I wonder what it would be like if had I made my proclamations. I wonder how you would have responded. I wonder about what it would be like.

Most of all I wonder if our book is finished. I hope, that maybe, this is that dreadful middle part of a book that makes us queasy as characters lives fall apart. But I know the book is finished… I’m just mowing these lawns and got you on my mind.

I guess that’s the problem with mowing lawns. We manipulate things to fit our stupid little contexts rather than allow them to develop and grow organically. That’s essentially what I based my decision off of. Logic. Order.

Oh, the risk of an unkempt lawn.

What might happen if we lose control?

And here I am… looking upon my bland little perfect lawn, yet the light of the star that lit my night has long since dimmed out of my life.

That’s a bit dramatic, but I liked the way it sounded.

In all honesty, who needs all that drama when they can just climb?

One thought on “Lawns

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