The man next door
– out of sight –
is smoking.
It is a noble thing.
He stares at
the jungle which is
number 24.
How do I know this?
I don’t.
His war paint is
fresh – still wet
and glistening.
He is smoking
– it is a noble thing.
How do I know
what he looks like?
How do I know
whether he or
she-warrior?
I don’t.
A stripe of sunlight
has caught
number 24.
The man next door
takes aim.
His bow string is
newly tightened,
his arrow straight
and tipped with
sharpness.
He has stopped smoking
– in order to hold his
bow and aim his arrow
– it is a noble thing.
© The Grumpy Old Dilettante, 2021