I always check the levels
First, before even putting my shoes on
It determines how my day will go
And if I even get it done

The smell of rotting vegetation still stuck to the bag
Along with oil and gasoline rich with detergent
Covet my sense of smell
And I smile

It brings back memories of my uncles house
Where I stayed one summer
As punishment
I wasn’t a bad kid
But I’d done some bad things
He was a Drill Instructor

One of my chores was to mow the lawn; front and back
The neighbors, too
For East Chicago
That isn’t much
Unless you use
A push lawn mower, that had no motor

I was pretty strong that fall
Between pushing the mower
And bagging the clippings
I learned how much powered mowers are taken for granted

I always check the levels first
Always