the dangers of hedge trimming

written for NaPoWriMo Day 5. (introduce apparently inappropriate laughter into a “dark” poem)

On the concrete driveway
he’s still where the ladder flung him. 
A pair of green secateurs
lie three metres off 
and the cat too, wanting to be fed.

Morning seems to graze him —
scratchy footsteps 
and the scuttering of light 
The red smear on his lips 
rests gently — heart’s juice and bubbles.

How long is it
since night withdrew -
since the sail-away moon 
cloaked itself in lavender
and danced and since the stars
slowly moved away?

He remembers fingerling suns 
baring pale arms
and hugging the Earth
but never quite touching him -
his pain like a shield
from their warmth.
A little girl says
"Look Mummy! A pussy cat!"
and he rouses, 
tries to call for help
but his voice is weak and nearby
the kookaburras are laughing.

13 thoughts on “the dangers of hedge trimming

  1. I find a massive stillness around this. It stops and leaves me standing on the edge of the incident. Or observing from a height. The laughter of the kookaburras is chilling. Wow. Brilliantly told.

    Liked by 1 person

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