Misconception In The Garden Poem by C Richard Miles

As I turned the corner, I saw him out of the corner of my eye:
A tall, thin, mealy-mouthed, sour-looking shadow of a guy,
Rangy, mean-faced, with a close-cropped hairless skinhead,
Scowling as he went. “What’s he doing here? ” I almost said.
“Up to no good”, I thought. “In that khaki camouflage jacket,
So very suspiciously clutching a suspicious-looking packet –
Drug-dealer, ” I assumed, “And look at those brown bovver boots
Kicking about with rage in the earth like that, rooting up roots,
That bloke worries me, he certainly looks like he means trouble.”
Then, glancing around menacingly, he crouched down double
And then, what was worse, it nearly scared me out of my life,
In his threatening way, he wielded that wicked, threatening knife
And slashed, slashed and slashed again, showing no mercy.
I started to run. Then my aunt appeared, shouting “Percy,
It’s time for your tea-break.” The man straightened up, smiled
And walked painfully back to the house. I gazed on, beguiled.
She came over. “Oh, ” she explained to me, “I beg your pardon,
I didn’t introduce you to the new chap who does the garden.
He’s been brilliant. Look at how he hacked all those weeds.
Now he’s going to replace them with all kinds of seeds
And, what’s more, he’s a living wonder, you’d never tell
He just getting over chemo, lost his hair, hasn’t been well.”