It's early summer, there

There’s a lawnmower in the hollow distance,
an evening dove is cooing and being enough
to beckon my imagination far away,
the alien mows his grass in red cutter fashion
on a planet where the trees are purple
and yellowy-orange, he comes near; I look
out my window, there he is wearing a speedo
mowing, in lime-green, sort of like a Teletubby.