raking the lawn

raking
the yard
on the end
of a summers
day
reminds you
of when you
were thirteen
and cut
lawns with
a push mower
that weighed
more than you
did. the blades
dull and thick
near rust,
pressing
the long grass
down, with
very little cut.
hours later,
towards dark
the man would
come out
after watching
you in the window
and hand you
five dollars.
you can rake it
tomorrow, he'd
say, go home,
it's getting late.