Manicuring At Night

When I was a teenager
My friend’s neighbor
Would mow his lawn at night
Wearing sunglasses
And carrying a flashlight.

We were too young then
To appreciate
This eccentricity
Resorting
To making fun of him
On the bus
En route to school.

We knew
Absolutely nothing about him.

He was reclusive
Until
He came out
After the sun had set.

We could hear him
Choking the push mower
Pulling at the starter cable.

He would get it going
In two or three tries.

His plot was small
So it wasn’t a huge effort...

But
His timing like clockwork
A ritual
Was a little bizarre.

If he was my neighbor now
I would go out with a flashlight
And introduce myself.

I’d offer him a beer
Or coffee
Or tea.

I’d compliment him
On the superlative job
That he was doing
Manicuring his lawn
Asking him for tips.

I would listen to what he had to say
With great interest.

I’d find out what his story was
Instead of letting it slip by
Reduced to hearsay
At the back
Of a yellow schoolbus.