Spring’s Native Lawn

The moistened weeds
Shine as warming beads
On an early Spring lawn
Eaten by a fawn

They hold open space
In the face
Of a gardener’s hoe
And say,  slow

The soil is prepared
To be aired
Upon our demise
Not by your cries

Clear the space
All weeds erase
It is our creed
To be a useful weed

To feed the soil
A weed does toil
Enabling dawn
For Spring’s lawn

After the gardener is gone
We can call upon
The deer’s herd
Or a vernal bird

Who know more
Than any human’s lore
How to help spawn
Spring’s native lawn