Tree Man
I don’t take a buzz saw up a tree, no never,
I take a hand saw, it’s safer;
and it’s clear, right up to the sighs of the
intense, crafty-blue sky;
no pressing customers, no G-men,
no pressured decision making, just me
and the blue sky
and I’ve got all the gear, the goggles, the harness,
the hard hat, the special skin-sheltering gloves;
and between the scalded branches and falling
bird’s-nests, I can see the chicks pass by below,
on the cement-tickled street; and their high-minded
heels, and delectable, swaying boughs, say high-di-high!
shameful! you whisper; I know, I know.
Copyright © Peter Lewis Holmes | Year Posted 2015
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