Once And …

There is a need

To pound the target,

To keep the breath,

Hold the focus,

Bend to the beat,

Square the shoulders,

Neighbour

He’s choppin’ at the strings

With intelligent-blues hands

Swappin’ up words ’bout

Love, the Devil and autumn

But beneath all the fury –

Raised voice, clenched fist;

Beyond the witch-gypsy mask

He still picks vegetables for

The local church harvest.