A Poem by Donal Mahoney
Monsanto, Dow and Oliver Jones
Oliver Jones, now gray and grizzled, has
cut the Miller’s lawn for years. A Vietnam vet,
a victim of Agent Orange, Oliver’s getting old,
almost as old as the Millers, his friends for years.
Recently he’s left ridges and tufts
in the lawn Mr. Miller’s eyes can’t see
but his wife has mentioned the problem.
After Oliver’s been paid with a good tip,
Mrs. Miller often rolls her wheelchair
over to the window and tells her husband
they should find someone else to cut the lawn,
someone who won’t leave ridges and tufts.
But the thing of it is, Oliver’s been leaving
ridges and tufts for at least five years,
long before Mr. Miller lost his sight and
Mrs. Miller was confined to a wheelchair.