Temper

A man lops a branch with a whiz-bang saw
Sounds like cutting bone
Another waits below with his chopper

Another serves ice-cream around the corner
To kids in a low row
Looking up

A woman cuts hair with a clip-clop clatter
Another shifts behind the till,
Smelling smokey, sounding croaky,
Makes my appointment

Buns bump backs on the baker's shelf
Chewing the plump white fat
Half a dozen for school lunches,
Thanks for that

A woman and a man hand-in-hand
But for an old bag handle,
Arms' length between them
A bendy bus for the straight ride home

Lying back on the grass
A man and his mobile
Take a long lunch loosely

The grass hangs onto the hill - longer still
As the wind plays tug of war tickle with my temper