I never minded 
Cutting grass (it's just a chore)
Until his outrage;
The next time I took notice,
Frantic grasshoppers cornered,

Butterflies driven
From screaming engines of blades,
Surviving despite
The razing of their green homes.
Before week's end they've grown back.

And from the neighbors'
The crimson cardinal and
His tawny feathered 
Mate return to our trees with
The red-headed woodpecker.