What we do

We cut leaves of the hedge,
We drink a glass of wine.

We talk to a passerby,
We are amazingly funny.

Do we live because
the blood echoes through
our body like bottled water?

Do we live because
we scrawl hopes and fears
in our experienced calendars?

We greet the passerby,
We wipe tears from our eyes.

We store the hedge trimmer.

We pour another glass.