Passing by another neighbor's yard on the high back road

Saw something quite intriguing, realized a poem's owed

For fellow was taking about six inches off his front hedge

With some sort of electric clipper, sliding along, as he sped



From one edge of bushes, at the gate, to far boundary

Just gently lopping off top, never becoming a quandary

For his eyes focused so very carefully on the close trim

Never once batting them, allowing even cut, so very thin



It was an enormously-well executed exercise in skill ...

Watching him made me feel so good he could do it, still

Something I'm not so sure is anywhere at all within me

For I can't even cut a straight line in a wood shelf, to be



- Tristram



(c) Christopher W. Thomas

3pm Sunday, May 24th, 98