mowing over the former flower bed

really gave me
a complex kind
of feeling. sort of
a victory like
take that ya darn weeds
but also an acute sense
of failure


my six horse
power briggs and
stratton mower
whirred its blunt
wings through green
hot mash


the handle hum
made my fingers
feel like silk
when i stopped to dump
the clippings

maybe the mowing sound put that boy
down the block
to sleep 
who likes
to keep shouting to his parents
questions
you can hear through
an open window

just kidding,
that's my kid

when i hear mowing i always
think of baseball
particularly the laziness of a hot
summer game

what he's going to think of
i have no idea
i hope it's something nice
like flower beds