The Leaf Blower   

Riverdave Owen

November 28, 2013


Two lizard friends set out to hunt

One bright autumnal day

They scramble through the fallen leaves

In search of insect prey.


But soon a noxious odor spreads

Across the forest floor

The elder lizard stops to sniff

And then shouts "motor oil!"


A monstrous whining engine sound

Is heard throughout the land

As leaves are blown and tossed about

From here to Samarkand. 


A motor pack is on the back

Of one poor human serf

Who with his tube expels the leaves

And liberates his turf.


For some great patron Tamerlane

He moves as if a pawn

And dares not let one dying leaf

Offend his master's lawn.


The lizards run for cover to

A hollow white oak tree

The younger asks the elder if

Now he can make a plea.


"Would it not make just common sense

To let these leaves retire

Around the trees that give them birth

And let them so expire?"


The elder answers, "Humans now

Consider leaves as waste  

And fail to grasp the simple truth 

Of Nature's mulching grace."


The younger lizard looks around

Unable to digest

The folly of the human race

Then cries in deep distress,


"Oh leaf blower, please calm your roar        

And grant our ears some rest              

Allow these trees their provender 

Their leaves to repossess!"      


Photo by Riverdave:  leave drop under a white oak