Matthew Murrey

Rust and Sweat

Next to the lilac,
the old reel mower
is motionless, its stiff
handle angled up.
I like its faded,
red metal parts
speckled with rust.
I like how the grass
has been growing
up through the blades
and the cutting bar
since the last time
I used it. Tomorrow
it’ll be over there
near the garden,
or beside the woodpile,
and the grass
will be shorter,
and the wooden grip
on the mower
will be a shade
darker and shinier
where I held it
with both hands
as I pushed it
back and forth across
an hour of my life. 

________________________________________________________________________________________

Matthew Murrey’s poems have appeared widely, most recently in Poetry East, Jet Fuel Review and tiny wren lit. He’s an NEA Fellowship recipient and his collection, Bulletproof, was published in 2019 by Jacar Press. He was a public school librarian for over twenty years and lives in Urbana, Illinois. His website is at https://www.matthewmurrey.net/ and he is on Twitter and Instagram @mytwords