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Poems By Bob Rosenbloom



During the summer drought,
and last heat wave,
the landscaper told us
to water the lawn,
that it was dying,
as if he were a neighbor
in my parents’ building
telling me to visit
my mother more often
in the nursing home.
As I began to water
and record rains came
in October, the lawn came
back, so did the red-tinged
bushes in the backyard,
against the neighbor’s dark red fence.
I even bought a new spray nozzle
for the garden hose, replacing
what was rusty and clogged.
Like people on the job, everywhere,
not even a brief congratulatory note,
words of praise, or encouragement.
Doing what you’re supposed to do,
business as usual.
Each morning, I’d check
the dark soil for dampness.

Bob Rosenbloom lives with his wife and two children in Bound Brook, NJ. He’s a certified civil trial lawyer in NJ and has an MA in Creative Writing from CCNY (1975). His poetry has appeared in Paterson Literary Review and Edison Literary Review.



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