With my trusty broom in hand, I swept
The leaves piled on the deck
And, noticing the gutters,
I decided, what the heck.
So I dragged a kitchen stool and climbed
And reached in with my hands
To grab what leaves and twigs I could
That ownership demands.
It all looks better than it did,
Which makes me satisfied,
Until tomorrow morning, when
I take a step outside…
And there will be, I’m sure of it,
Just what you might assume,
A brand-new leafy carpet
Out there waiting for my broom.
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