Mower’s Morning by Samuel Piccone

After the yellow
chains are
and the trailer gates
are dropped, after
the dew
has sparkled,
has risen,
has settled and the
morning has finally
decided to abandon
twilight and shine
metallic on the cold
shell of the mower,
I climb in.
A pull
of the choke,
a twist
of the key,
and the engine
folds and kneads itself
to life, waking with
a diesel smokers cough,
waking up
homes and
children and
birds with the graceful
thumping of the
blades, blades that
tire themselves endlessly
just to trim the world
clean for a few
short days.


Samuel is a recent graduate from the M.A. Writing and Publishing program at DePaul University in Chicago. His work has appeared in publications including: Silverthought Press, Threshold, Leveler, and, Forge. He currently resides in Colorado and enjoys writing songs and the challenge of maintaining a vegetable garden while owning a dog that strives to be a strict vegetarian.