Tree Sur­geons on the Aberdeen Line

The London Magazine - - EOGHAN WALLS -

You woke one night to rail­way tree sur­geons giv­ing the trees by the track their yearly trim with their hy­brid car­riage of me­chan­i­cal limbs. It was half like Me­ga­tron of the De­cep­ti­cons and half a visi­ta­tion of the ar­changel Me­ta­tron wail­ing saw­dust with jazzy chain­saw hymns whim­si­cally be­set­ting the trees around him just as it was all kick­ing off in your ab­domen.

You watched the sur­geons in their orange vests chuck­ing sapling af­ter sapling into the chip­per, and asked me what they did with fallen nests. I stayed in bed, watch­ing you in your slip­pers, with a sil­hou­ette so stark against the win­dow for one brief mo­ment I mis­took it for a halo.

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