if you walk on the front lawn past the library where – free of charge – you can take some if you leave some
if you approach the front windows she will likely try to claw the screen attesting to her ownership
if you walk up the driveway and duck under the grapevines or poison-ivy – some say – will tickle your legs
if you look upward you can barely see the sky between the older-than-the-4th-of-July burr oaks
if you walk past the once-was back door – into the backyard – a forest of ****-trees shades leftover plants
if you stroll further the spring bulb-mothers’ dead stalks cover the leaf-mulched soil
if you climb up two rotting steps to the bird feeders squirrel-ridden – and treated with suet – is the cardinal family’s year-round home
if you like critters and engage them in dialogue – natural ambiance – you will have an annual prayer rug for a yard
if you let the white pickets go gray beside the curb – looking wrinkled – the shimmer-light of the street lamp will guard the paw prints of winter bunnies