It’s not poverty I fear, but madness. 

 

Now a year ending poem; with a quiet song of solo cello

Mad spirited boys clashing furious on the embers wave

Theirs is a constant tapping mind outside the body

Twins Locked together rolling through this furious year of heatwaves; of plague spores

Of ‘home learning’, indeed. 

Clutch to life like a billion-year baked diamond Earth

Seen from out there; reminder of the ‘look back’ at the planet.

Glance at it.