The old, yellow cub
riding lawn mower
coughed and popped
as it grinded
down the long drive
to her shed,
then she sparked
and flames shot
out her rear end.
My stubborn husband,
determined to
get her back
to home,
kept going.
Brother-in-law
turned on the hose
by the house
and sprayed him
and the mower
as they limped past.
Just short of
the shed door,
she gave up her ghost.
The two idiots
stood there,
respectfully,
mourning the loss
of what had served
for many more years
than warranted.
