A Million Tennis Balls, poetry written by Heath Brougher at Spillwords.com

A Million Tennis Balls

A Million Tennis Balls

written by: Heath Brougher


In the depths of winter
when the grass dies
unto a faded shade of brown,
I cover my lawn with a million tennis balls
in order to brighten the otherwise drab colors,
in order to brighten it to a hue similar to summer grass
among the thoroughly dense cold drought of fertility currently reigning.

It’s like having a million tiny suns in the front yard.
It’s putting the color back into a world dulled by winter.

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