Saturday morning, seven-oh-three The dew is still fresh on the lawn debris I pull the cord and the engine agrees It's time to redistribute these leaves Saturday morning, seven-oh-four I'm wearing earplugs I bought by the score He's out there again with his two-stroke machine The loudest man that this street's ever seen We could talk about it We could set a time But where's the drama in a compromise? It's the Leaf Blower Concherto, movement one The neighborhood symphony has begun He's conducting chaos at the crack of dawn She's filing grievances out on the lawn It's the Leaf Blower Concherto — hear it blow! One man's chore is another's show {The overture of every weekend war} {What are the neighbors even fighting for?} I'm not unreasonable I'm just precise The leaves don't blow themselves I've checked it twice The Hendersons' maple drops on my side I'm just returning what the wind supplied He blows them to my yard I'm living proof Fourteen Saturdays of footage from the roof He smiles and waves like nothing is wrong While performing his arboreal battle song We've escalated past the point of reason This is no longer seasonal — it's personal and it's treason! It's the Leaf Blower Concherto, movement two The neighbors are gathering, they're picking who To root for in this horticultural war That neither one of us remembers starting or What the Leaf Blower Concherto was even for Two stubborn people keeping Saturday's score Look, I know it's early And I know it's loud But have you seen my driveway? It's immaculate (It really is) It IS immaculate That's the worst part He's RIGHT and he's LOUD about it It's the Leaf Blower Concherto, the grand finale He puts the blower down in the front yard alley He's holding coffee, is that a second cup? She takes it, and we both shut up (The leaves are still there) (Nobody cares) Saturday morning, eight-fifteen The quietest peace this block has seen Two cups of coffee, nothing resolved Just neighbors being neighbors — problem solved (Until next Saturday)
