Although a little late for spring, this poem, written by my high school classmate and good friend, Herb Walden, describes the thoughts of a lot of us retirees, as winter disappears and the chore of mowing the lawn returns.

Well, spring has sprung,
And winter is gone,
And once again
I'm moving the lawn.

Grass growing like crazy
Hither, thither, and yon.
Looks like a long summer
Just mowing the lawn.

Oh, I get some rest
From dusk until dawn,
But the rest of the time
I'll be mowing the lawn.

Sometimes I break
To go to the john,
But in a few minutes,
I'm back mowing the lawn.

My summer fishing
Is more off than on,
Since, I'm way too busy
Just mowing the lawn.

I'm getting real tired
And starting to yawn,
But I can't take a nap
'Cause I'm mowing the lawn.

Lots of jobs
Seem to go on and on,
But they're nothing compared
To mowing the lawn.

By the end of the summer
I'll look old and drawn
Cause I've spent so much time
Mowing the lawn.

In the years that pass
Long after I'm gone,
I'll be remembered
For mowing the lawn.

"Here lies Herb Walden"
(My tombstone---engraved upon)
"He didn't do much
But he could mow lawn!"

Herb Walden - 1998