As I mow, I pass again and again upon the same path,
Each round a little enlarging my mowed domain.
I cannot avoid contact with the living beings I kill.

Thistles aborted, young and yet unborn dandelions,
Wild asters, vetch, various miscellaneous living beings, and
Weeds whose claim to life is as strong as mine.

I know that I trespass and more than trespass upon
Tiny violets, ground orchids, oxalis, clover of various kinds,
And yet I go on, my riding mower carrying me in ease.

I mow ahead, perspiring, knowing that the cocktail hour nears,
Knowing that the sweet embrace of the redeeming shower
Will cleanse me of part of this.
 

---James Bolner, Sr.
Bodoc
Good Friday
April 13, 2001