The sun is shining
He’s in good form
He clatters the scaffold
And feels friendly and warm
He laughs and jokes
And shouts to his mates
He whistles and hammers
…………..Random notes
His music is thoughtless
It’s improvised, free
Unlearned, untaught
Uncluttered by skill
Unfettered by study
It’s timeless, tuneless, rough and ready
But alive
Joyful
Heady
He’s a loudmouth, he’s a pain
Shouting and disturbing the peace
of the blue cloudless morning
I sense his mates’ disdain
In their lack of responding
But his music is true
No melody
No pace
The whistle has centre
The lines have space
Windows wide open, I sit in the room.
Though I’ve never seen him
I feel his persona
Through his voice and his tune