Friday, July 13, 2012

When Dad Mows the Lawn

Dear Sons,

 It’s been some weeks, as I recall,
         Since you went north to have a ball.
         I miss you guys since you’ve been gone,
         Like when I have to mow the lawn.
      Now mowing lawns is just a breeze,
         As I’ve oft said, giving you a squeeze.
         That breeze would be most welcome when
         The sweat is pouring off, young man!
      You see, I’ve learned it’s kinda hard,
         Pushing mowers all over that yard.
          I tremble, feel pounding in my heart.
         That’s before I get the mower to start!

         Then once or twice around the place
         The sweat starts pouring all over my face—
         My glasses get smeared and I can’t see,
         ‘Cuz dust is flying all over me.

         Sometimes I’m encouraged, finishing one patch
         Of lawn, thinking I’ll stop and catch
         My breath when the next part’s done—
         Then the mower quits and it won’t run!

         Or else the mower’s too heavy to pull
         Or push cause the catcher is clear full--
         I’m as far from the compost as I can be—
         Getting there takes an eternity!
      Sometimes I’m sailing along quite well,
         Thinking about teeth or something else swell,
         Then some tree branch reaches down instead,
         Removes my hat, and takes a hunk of my head!

         Sometimes I do sneak in for a break,
         To find out which muscles still don’t ache,
         Consume a gallon of water or two,
         And rest three hours so I can get through!

         Yes, I miss you guys, your smiles and all—
         I think of how you’ve grown big and tall!
         Seems like years since you’ve been gone,
         Especially when Dad has to mow the lawn.
        --Guess Who Richardson

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