Mowing Cambodia

Sweat runs down my face like the blood of three million victims. I have been mowing Cambodia.

I trim close to the neglected flower beds that lie all around the house like mass graves and swerve to avoid stones for fear they might be covering landmines.

When I pick up

branches in my path they turn

to bones in my hand.

I turn off the mower and relish the silence

for a few seconds before I hear birds

fly over like bombers. -- Jeff Barnes