by David Feela
When I cut my lawn the cows
next door gather along the fence,
drawn to the fresh cut grass
like I’m drawn by my neighbor’s
grill as he cooks his holiday steaks.
What better way to describe how
we get by as neighbors, turning death
into a redolence that sustains us.
David Feela's work has appeared in hundreds of regional and national publications. His first full length poetry book, The Home Atlas, is now available.
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