Hedge With a Hole

Hedge with a Hole Stretched on the couch by the living room window, too tired to rise, verify locks and the stove, officially retire, he hears outside blasts of a curse, fists, and feet running. In the morning, before he leaves for the train, crisp in his seersucker suit, he walks around to the window, finds creeping bent torn, roses beheaded, the hedge with a hole the girth of a man. He will be too upset this morning to read his paper on the train. Donal Mahoney