The sound of a mower is summer to me.
In the dusky hour, when the sun gets low
and the heat at last gives up its hold,
out comes the mower, to graze the lawn.
No sentimental song is the sound of mowing
and yet it satisfies, the blades knowing
to slice and prune, for a shapely yard,
beauty can henceforth grow less abated
by weeds and leaves. Make the way by pruning.
May the hum of the mower stay steady
But for the heat of summer, I'm not ready.
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