Sunday, November 15, 2009

You Win, Leaves

Hey, leaves, I give up.  You not only win, you own my ass.  You are the Steelers, I the Browns.  There isn't a single one of you left in the trees, and yet, by some unholy curse, the lawn keeps filling up.  Armed with my trusty rake, I have now been gathering you into large piles for the past 5 weekends.  Oak, maple, birch, matters not, for the trees are in league against me.  Did Sisyphus suffer so?

So here I am, bowing down, a true supplicant kneeling before his Masters.  You may be thin and brittle, but by sheer numbers you become a mighty force of nature.  Like the million drops of rain that make the flood, you have turned my lawn into a parti-colored sea that even Moses would be helpless to part.  I beg you to stop, have mercy, desist, but know you answer to no earthly entreaties.

Truly, this day I am humbled.  I am bound to this task, and I await next Saturday not with dread, but resignation.



Anonymous said...

aww, just rake 'em into the street.

No one will notice.


Nate and Jeff Bowler, Co-Captains said...

I dump them into the street every Friday, when the leaf vacuum truck takes them to wherever dead leaves go, hopefully leaf hell.


Kid Shay said...

I got this image of you being sucked into a leaf pile, only to be uncovered later as a picked-clean skeleton. Horror movie idea? "The Leafy Massacre."