A year or so of fine excuses-
obligations and
depression and the wet weather
kept quiet the whir of blades.

Inner and
outer fields need clearing-

avoided, untouched.

There will be complaints from the neighbors. 
They are so quick to confuse appearance with effortlessness.
Someone must move, then:
I work
in the light. Ask for forgiveness
from the insects and dandelions. 
Press my palms forward. Prepare my feet.
And begin.