The Bushes Scream While My Daddy Prunes Daddy walks the lawn, the grass is getting long. The trees are looking crooked and the bushes seem wrong. He never noticed 'til now how untidy it seemed, He frowns thinking how his garden looked in dreams. The pale sun flickers through the twitching trees And the wind fills the lawn with rustling leaves. In the shed daddy sharpens up his secateur blades And the wind picks up and the sunlight fades. The Bushes Scream While My Daddy Prunes A 'phone call after lunch brings the cement and sand As he watches from the house the disappearing land. At four he takes a walk on the concrete raft, But daddy's sunk without a trace, he's never coming back. The Bushes Scream While My Daddy Prunes