Macbeth and His Lawnmower - poem (of a sort)

Lawrence Hall
mhall46184@aol.com
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

Macbeth and His Lawnmower

My day of mowing has fallen into the sere
The yellow leaf, the brown leaf, still more leaves
Leaves, leaves, leaves, heaps of leaves, Birnam leaves - aaaaargh!
I look toward Birnam – weeds begin to move!

And that mowing which should accompany old age
I must not look to have; the mower won’t start -
Curses, both loud and deep, against false starts
The carburetor-breath which mocketh me

My day of mowing has fallen into the sere –
Methinks – methinks me’ll haveth another beer