Unhelpful

Thetwo men stood there, staring,Theirtask quite beyond their ken,Itwould have been so easy,Witha ladder. And a pen.
Taskedas they were with gaugingJusthow tall the flag pole was,Butlacking proper tools, you know,Thetask had given pause.
Thenfinally, a passerby,Shenoticed how they stared,Shethought that she could help them both,Thisgirl had come prepared!
Andtaking wrench and muscle,Sheloosed a bolt or three,Thenlaid that pole upon the ground,Andgot down on her knees…
Thencarefully, she measured it,T’wastwenty-six feet, just,Shenodded to the men and left,Theystared back with disgust.
“Shedidn’t help at all, you know!”One,to the other, said.“Whatwe needed what the flagpole’s height.Shegave the width, instead!”
Karen asks, "Write for me, please?"We write because she's the Bee's Knees!And we love her, you know that’s true,So this is what we writers do . . .We craft a poem based on a theme,With pencils, sharp, and eyes agleam,Each month we write and have such funWe can't wait for another one,With FLAGS this month, how did I do?Please go and see the others, too:
BakingIn A Tornado: Seeing RedMessymimi’sMeanderings