The Cutters

It’s the clatter I hear first
of metal tooth biting down
scything sharp through the wildings.

The most stupid way to die
is flaying by hedge cutter.
So I wave my arms and jump

and the two farmboys with grins
like soldiers pause the grinders
in mid-air like Transformers.

I keep eye contact and smile
in case they have a pungent
sense of humour and slam-drop

the reapers within a touch
of my head to watch me quake
like a lamb from a dragon.

I hedge past and they re-start
tearing maythorn and elder
twisting and bending edges

taming the passing season.
I quicken and nose my path
disappear into the green.

 

 

Gareth Writer-Davies is from Brecon, Wales. Shortlisted Bridport Prize (2014 and 2017) Commended Prole Laureate Competition (2015) Prole Laureate for 2017. Commended Welsh Poetry Competition (2015) Highly Commended in 2017 . Pamphlets Bodies (2015) Cry Baby (2017) Indigo Dreams. Collection The Lover’s Pinch ( 2018) and pamphlet The End (2019) Arenig Press