Creative expressions is a space for local poets and writers to share their work. Creative expressions is edited by Richard Schmidt and Diana Liebe. For information or to submit your original work, e-mail rvschmidt2@gmail.com.
Cutting Trees with Tom
By HZB
With his right leg straddling
The ladder’s ninth rung,
Left foot solid on the seventh,
Tom is nearly invisible up there
In the dense spring foliage
Of the Magnolia tree;
Balanced, content, okay
With the world, he jerks the
Starter rope of his saw.
It sputters. Stalls.
As he tinkers with the engine,
I step into the brief silence
And shout up to him:
“What if we only cut each limb
Two, three feet out…more shade
For the sunbathers this summer?”
Tom looks down, bemused,
Past the machine at his hip.
Face serious, weighing his answer,
He suddenly yields an easy grin.
“You’re overthinking the job,” he says.
We don’t argue. We’re done with it.
Friendship intact—discord or not—
We each go back to assigned work.
Tom climbs a few steps higher,
Past where big limbs spread out.
He yanks the starter rope again.
This time the little motor catches,
Barks, then screams into action.
Soon, long willowy boughs rain down
From the canopy like green snakes.
A half-dozen of us, his crew,
Armed with clippers and sheers,
Gather long bundles of prunings,
Press them neat and tight to our bodies,
Careful not to spill our gawky burdens.
We bear them off to Mark’s trailer,
Parked on the gravel cul-du-sac,
Twenty yards from our furthest tree.
We work well for a team of amateurs.
Tom leads cut-by-cut, finding no cause
For telling us what we should do,
Except for that one time, warming me
Against excessive thinking—
Getting the job done instead.
It’s the kind of logic a patient father
Might counsel an inattentive son—
To heed the difference between
Coddling an untamed mind
And the grace of cradling
A balky chainsaw,
High on a wobbly ladder,
Sending fresh new growth
Soaring down to Earth.
