Cut Grass In Snow (v4)

All day long
night is my storm lantern.
I carry it into this farmland
cutting into my harvest emotions
covered by snow
edge them in half
in front of me.
Do not laugh at me, a circus clown down,
I am sixty-six; my dimples show smiles, ripples, age.
This day is a lawn mower
even in Canadian December.
Machinery is shacked-up, covered.
I plow beneath the white surface
cut rotten leaves beneath settled snow.

In spring, the grass never pops up right.
All day, night is my storm lantern.

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Michael Lee Johnson

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Michael Lee Johnson lived ten years in Canada during the Vietnam era and is a dual citizen of the United States and Canada. Today he is a poet, freelance writer, amateur photographer, and small business owner in Itasca, Illinois. Mr. Johnson published in more than 1037 publications, his poems have appeared in 37 countries, he edits, publishes 10 different poetry sites. Michael Lee Johnson, Itasca, IL, nominated for 2 Pushcart Prize awards for poetry 2015/1 Best of the Net 2016/and 2 Best of the Net 2017. He also has 169 poetry videos on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/user/poetrymanusa/videos. He is the editor-in-chief of the anthology, Moonlight Dreamers of Yellow Haze: http://www.amazon.com/dp/1530456762 and editor-in-chief of a second poetry anthology, Dandelion in a Vase of Roses which is available here: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1545352089. Michael is also editor-in-chief of Warriors with Wings: the Best in Contemporary Poetry, a smaller anthology available now: http://www.amazon.com/dp/1722130717
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1 Comment on "Cut Grass In Snow (v4)"

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Raymond Keen
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I can’t get these lines, which begin the poem, out of my mind:
“All day long
night is my storm lantern.”

Then the poem ends with:
“All day, night is my storm lantern.”

I hesitate to interpret the mysterious beauty of this poem which I believe comes from the poet’s deep unconscious. Michael Lee Johnson expresses “night” as a rescue from “day.”

In night there is the possibility of peace. Not so the day. Perhaps a little terror in this fine and mysterious poem – the suggestion that in night (death) we have our escape from the storm of life.

Raymond Keen – author of “Love Poems for Cannibals”

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