With a billhook
Whose head was hand-forged and heavy
I was hacking a stalk
Thick as a telegraph pole.
My sleeves were rolled
And the air fanned cool past my arms
As I swung and buried the blade,
Then laboured to work it unstuck.
The next stroke
Found a man's head under the hook.
Before I woke
I heard the steel stop
In the bone of the brow.