metallic edger grinds the concrete
sending sparks askew
offering trenches for rain rivulets
and a break from the monotony
of the cold impersonal sidewalk
granting a distinctive separation
from the well-manicured lawn
just adjacent –
wide brimmed hat hides a sweaty face
darkened upper sleeves show
the land of lost perspiration
the official ‘wipe-zone’
for the landscape technician
paid by the contract
not many how many hours it takes –
she peeks out from behind lacy drapes
gazing at the most forbidden of fruits
longing to feel rough hands
with skill and delicacy
create new designs upon her landscape
show her the care and patience
she has watched him bestow
on so many flowerbeds
maybe one day…..her bed –
fleeting images of stolen kisses
and soft embraces
dance across her mind’s eye
when at once the rattle
of a rusted out and dented pick-up
travels slowly down the driveway
leaving her lost in lamentation
longing for next Tuesday –