Maintenance

The clover is cool and damp on my feet.

I’m walking out to the end of the street.

I’m trying not to think about the bill

or the way that the house is standing so still.

I look down and see a dandelion,

its head a bright, stubborn yellow.

I step on it.

The stem snaps with a wet, green sound.

The ground is still cold.

The ground is still there.