The Busy Suburbanite

He spades the ground at early morn

To plant his lettuce beets and corn,

     The blithe suburbanite;

Gets half a breakfast, sprints like fun

To catch his train upon the run,

     The hot suburbanite.

He worries through the day somewhat,

His mind upon his garden plot,

     The tired suburbanite;

He hurries home with blood aglow

And seizes mower, hose and hoe

     Refreshed suburbanite.

Week in week out he does the same,

Till Autumn finds him weak and lame;

     Played-out suburbanite.

You ask him why, he’ll make reply:

“My neighbor does and so must I” –

     Misled suburbanite.

May 19, ‘06