My lawn has a soul patch


That little mower ain’t worth two cents
From all the time and effort spent
Grinding gears and pulling levers
All in this hapless endeavor

Simply mow it, one may say,
They day is fine, no clouds of grey,
The air is clean, the body fresh,
A perfect day to eject some gas

A few short passes, and then with a heave,
The mower gave, and no reprieve.
The lawn quite thick, the blade got stuck,
But clearing it out worked well enough.

Tug, tug, and vroom, started up again,
But not all was to go as intended.
The garden patch was particularly lumpy,
And over this the mower got grumpy.

Sputter, sputter, stop. Ok, let’s just see,
Clear more grass from the blade,
Pull, now purring with glee,
Over knoll and burrow

Eyes began to unfurrow…the end in sight
But in this delight a deadening again.
No blockage this time, tug, tug, pull
Mower is on ground level as it gets

Maybe is flooded?
Go water potatoes, tomatoes, and wait…
Is that a break in the gate?
Fix a little, water a little…

(Little Buddhist chant)
Now surely to work, with the help of Zen,
Tug, tug, pull, pull, again, again
Pushing lawnmower uphill to most level spot…

Ah, finally! Again it caught
Vroom vroom, many passes more
Head back downhill
As up will otherwise be a bitch

A few passes more, and nary a glitch,
Oh no caught again, pull and tug,
No reward for the wicked,
Mower seems almost smug.

Today the mower won, by a hair.
Now my lawn has a soul patch,
and I’m punching the air.
I sing the blues, and surrender this match.

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