Eight Second Ride Poem by Lawerence Mize, Sr.

I watched an old man
climb up a tall dead tree.
With huge Y shaped branches
that spread out from the tree.
A chain saw hung from his belt,
with all the rope he'd need.
A dirty old cap
made him a sight to see.
A spotter on the ground
looked on with a careful eye.
A fall from such a height
could mean the old man might die.
He roped off one end
where the Y became a V
Then fired up his saw
as he stood alongside the tree.
The ladder shook
with every move he made.
The chain saw buzzed
as the chain spun around the blade.
A sharp crack sounded
as the first notch was made.
The second back-cut brought the crash
as the branch fell away.
I heard the old man yell,
'that's an eight second ride, '
as the branch fell to earth.
He looked relieved and let out a sigh.
It was something to do
on this warm summer day.
Watch an old man at work
and how he earned his pay.