To the satisfying
whirr of her reel
acoustic mower
the Widow Wyile
wanders the lawn
in random fashion
she cuts on through
from A to B
mowing dreamily
but rather than going
round the perimeter
she saunters over to visit
the juniper the holly
the pear tree the laundry
hung out earlier           now
flapping invitingly in the early spring or fall
breeze just as she does
whiz and wind uncharted
paths that cross and criss
in strips and swaths
the widow Wyile is a meditative
mower walking the invisible
maze of her shortening
greenery
which
by the end
will make for
pleasing scenery
and a quietly
satisfied mind