The lots are a collusion of lawn tools
Rakes bark at sidewalks
Mowers ruminate, roaring in fescue
Pink flamingo statuary and black jockeys
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my youthful friend John Kay told me to write a poem. So I did.
I love your creative language here, mowers ruminate, rakes bark..and the silence, at the end, which always accompanies human conversations, and jousts. LOL.