The gardener

He waddles with boots to his knees, a man of whale like girth

He steps as if blown by the breeze, a disposition of sunshine mirth

As dependable as the sun risen from hillside bed

His shadow's length shrinks as day does run, until sky and skin are red

Fingers tobacco stained, in his pocket a cigarette rolled in a corn husk

From his brow sweat rained, hanging from his lip a smoking glow til dusk

Reviews

[Davidgeo]

I feel like I was watching The Witch after reading this.

[Soren]

Thanks so much for your read and comment yes this came to me after watching our gardener of over 20 years yesterday