In the Details: Repairs

Repairs

My neighbor I don't
Know him, except he
Grins and hellos us
On our way to school.

My neighbor he parks
Beater cars in the
Road, rims resting
On blacktop.

My neighbor wears
Dark hoodies, and has scruff
On his face. If he has a wife,
I've never seen her.

My neighbor I don't
Know him, except this
Long rail fence we pass by
Which, I notice,

He repairs
For the sake of, it seems,
The beautifully organized
Orange coneflowers

That lean on the rails
Come September, 
And clingy
Morning glories which

The kids marvel at--
How different they can
Be from evening to day.

--

This post is part of a the poetry series, "" -- daily poetry and photos, inspired by where we live. 

The posts for January are part of an international small stone writing project "The River of Stones."

Read more small stones on Twitter at the #smallstone hashtag. You can find me on Twitter@smallstate.