A CURTAL SONNET 

                    Leaf blowers and lawn mowers once again
                    Invade the soundscape of our neighborhood,
                    Disrupting my amusement with their din
                    So I can’t write the poetry I should
                    But only this exasperated verse,
                    Instead of something lofty and inspiring
                    Until I’m freed from this infernal curse
                    Restored to that sereneness I’m requiring . . .

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