They cut off our heads when we sprout in the spring,
Their lawnmowers, like weapons of destruction to us.
Undeterred, unconquered, we resurrect again and again,
And lift our yellow, flowery faces in worship of the sun.
Bob Boyd
My Archived Poetry Blog With 3,750 poems
They cut off our heads when we sprout in the spring,
Their lawnmowers, like weapons of destruction to us.
Undeterred, unconquered, we resurrect again and again,
And lift our yellow, flowery faces in worship of the sun.
Bob Boyd