TIMBER!
by
ABBIE JOHNSON TAYLOR
We heard the workmen next door
as we got ready for our day.
Lying down, we put on his pants,
one leg, then the other,
rolled, pulled, rolled, pulled
til they were up as far as they would go.
Sitting on the side of the bed,
we removed the sweaty t-shirt
that covered him as he slept.
His arm encircled my waist.
We tugged, laughed,
swore till it was over his head.
One arm, then the other,
it was off.
On went the sweatshirt,
one sleeve, then the other,
over his head it went.
All the while,
chain saws whined.
Branches and limbs fell,
bringing change, welcome or unwelcome.
