That Green Field Poem by Bullion Grey

Now it was hot in those summers in Arizona.
Hot as an oven they'd say.

Once we tested the saying 'so hot you could fry and egg on the ground.' Well our results were just that in a short time the eggs would turn white....to our amazment.

We had sheep and an acre lot in the back of our old haunted farm house. It was up to me, the only boy of four kids, to mow the entire acre.

Even in the hot summers of July. I would use a pushing mower that had no engine and I would sweat it out trying to get done as fast as possible.

I'd see kids riding their bikes as they passed just staring at me. I wished so hard to be riding around instead of pushing that old mower. It was the kind with blades that were exposed and rolled fast when you pushed it fast. Then you'd have to roll it back and roll forward again.

Chop by chop I would make my way around the entire acre of green grass. I was so hot and tired before I was even half way done. I would stop to wipe my brow and breath. Then move on toward the next line of grass.

Sometimes I would hear my name called from the sky. It was strange and I wonderd if someone was joking around with me. But in the middle of a flat, green yard there was nobody. So I looked up sometimes and said 'What? '

Then continued pushing and pushing. I had to be done in time my alcoholic step parent came home or pay a terrible price. That was motivation to push and push myself to my limits. I almost always got it done in time and was really happy.

Now I look back and I wonder how I ever got it done in one afternoon. It was a time I can't forget, but would like not to remember. Those hot summer days in the middle of a green grassy field with a push mower.