There was a man,
Strapped by his right hand,
Arm extended with hands clenched,
He held the rope with a tighter fist.
I panned my gaze,
I saw his left,
Another rope, another fist.
Sinews straining and shoulders stitched.
His gaze roamed from side to side.
Two things he loved on left and right.
His calling, yes, on either side.
Divided not, his fists collide.