Not a mower poem, I guess, but there's an almost mower poem by Wilbur that I'm sure you all know very well (here's the first stanza):
A toad the power mower caught,
Chewed and clipped of a leg, with
a hobbling hop has got
To the garden verge, and sanctuaried him
Under the cineraria leaves, in the shade
Of the ashen heartshaped leaves, in a dim,
Low, and a final glade.
And I guess in the same vein was "To a Mouse" by Burns, but I can't recall if that was a mower or some other piece of equipment that did in the wee sleekit mousie.
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