A Green Lawn

Spring has arrived, but here in Wyoming, you wouldn’t know it. The temperature is forty-nine degrees, and it’s cloudy with a dusting of snow. Chances of snow are forecast for the rest of the week.

At this time of year, you should start thinking about lawn care unless you hire someone to do that for you. The following poem, published in Serendipity Poets Journal, details my memories of lawn care through the years.







As a child of five or six,

I watched Mother push the mower

back and forth across the grass.

Afterward, I ran, rolled, drank in the scent.


We moved to a succession of houses,

each with its own lawn,

graduated to a power mower.


As a teenager, my younger brother mowed the lawn.

“You missed the corner here,

that section there,” Mother said.


In my adult years, I use a lawn care service.

Every corner and section is neat

with not a blade of grass out of place.


 What do you remember about lawn care? As a kid, did you like to roll in the grass after it was freshly mowed? As a teen-ager, did Dad pay you to mow the lawn? Did you ever use a push mower? Please share your memories below.


Abbie Johnson Taylor, Author of We Shall Overcome and How to Build a Better Mousetrap: Recollections and Reflections of a Family Caregiver

Author: abbiejohnsontaylor

I'm the author of two novels,, two poetry collections, and a memoir. My work has appeared in various journals and anthologies. I'm visually impaired and live in Sheridan, Wyoming, where for six years, I cared for my totally blind late husband who was paralyzed by two strokes. Please visit my website at http://www.abbiejohnsontaylor.com.

6 thoughts on “A Green Lawn”

    1. Hi Bruce, isn’t it wonderful not to have our mothers breathing down our necks while we’re doing household chores? I don’t think my mother was as bad as yours, but she nagged and expected things to be done a certain way. Some mothers are like that.


  1. Abbie–Your poem reminds me of the beautiful green lawns in the Indiana of my youth when I played croquet and badminton during the long summer months. In later years, I think of my dad with one of his two grandsons on the big riding lawn mower: the boys so enjoyed the rides with their grandpa. I am glad to hear that you had your poem published. Happy Spring! Alice


    1. Hi Alice, I remember the tractor my grandfather used to mow his lawn. I was only five or six at the time so it’s pretty hazy but I do recall being scared at first because it made so much noise, but once I got used to it, I enjoyed riding with him while he mowed the lawn. Thank you for your comment.


  2. I was designated mower kid in my household from as early as I can remember. The back and forth, up and down revolutions got under my fingernails and became part of the kid which I was. The last time I climbed on our John Deere lawn tractor back in 2010 is something I will never forget. My wife did allow me to run back and forth through the dog pen a couple times last summer with the small push mower, and after I made a letter “M”, I retired from mowing one more time. Great post, and poem Wyoming.


    Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass, it’s about learning to dance in the rain.

    Vivian Green



    1. Hi Deon, this gave me a good laugh. When I was about five or six, I tried using the push mower but couldn’t budge it an inch. I probably could now, but why should I bother, especially if I have a lawn care service that charges a reasonable rate and does a pretty good job? Besides, any lawn I mowed would look like something the cat dragged in when I was done.


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