by Kelly Fineman
Sometimes there's a racket, other times a hum.
Either way the sound tells you the lawnmowers have come.
They skim across the yard, cutting as they go.
Sometimes they move very fast, and sometimes they move slow.
The old man down the street pushes his uphill;
If he went the other way, I'm sure he'd take a spill.
His mower is quite old; it has blades that twirl.
They make a click-clack noise as he takes it for a whirl.
Our lawnmower at home uses gasoline.
Once I get the motor started, it sounds very mean.
Dad says I must use it. I don't get a vote.
But if it were up to me, I'd choose to buy a goat.