SPRING CLEANUP
Kicked to the curb, picked and pruned, refused
and packed in paper bags—last year’s leftover
leaves, creeper and prickers, pieces of rock
a season of frost heaved through sandy soil, all
the bits of nature’s bounty we cast aside
to be carted off and turned to who-knows-what:
feed, fertilizer, decorative wreaths, smoke.
We open the gates and wield our rakes
and clippers, stake a claim to nature’s spillage.
Our tillage may be futile in a week
but now: neat rows and fresh-trimmed limbs—blistered
thumbs and thorn-sticks simple sacrifices
for a short-lived reprieve from the constant
advance of crabgrass. Down the block, rows of bags
beside the road an honor guard: the over-
abundance we’ve discarded sends us off,
the hardware store another stop on our way
to a destination we pretend not to know.
Brian Simoneau is the author of River Bound (C&R Press, 2014), which won the De Novo Prize. His poems have appeared in Boulevard, Cave Wall, Crab Orchard Review, Georgia Review, Mid-American Review, Southern Humanities Review, and other journals.