Too scorching or too old and lazy
To cut the grass and fuss with plants
I let the backyard naturalize
Into a wild walled garden
Weeds and flowers fighting it out
Vivid colors in a waving green
So by August it was in its glory
When I started to wonder about
The gardener implicit in the garden
The exactitude of the arrangements
Which happens when the sun
Is free to coax up this or that
New leaf from anywhere it wants
Fit now for a child to enter
Or an old man to sit
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