scott moore | a pin prick

A pin prick

in the drone of hydraulic lines
quiet the footsteps of red brick slurry
a red tail hawk nests in the copula
above the rectory slate
from a copper nest…. he watches
never far from sight circled and direct
the chapel is now reborn in new oak
and bluestone tile
tomorrow a hole will be opened
the light will penetrate where
the work was in darkness
the barricades will protect any fall
from the holy roof top
coverage is a good insurance policy
bought cheap through the union
on call…. in case
the barricade accidentally moves
a dream to nightmare
witness to all
the sun a fickle beast
dispenses it’s justice on a thin line
heat permeating from the rubber roof
like desert madness tongues
they joke about cooking up here
fresh meat and and soft hands
not fare well at this level
above and below
last nights beer
seeps from pores and sweat
to working stank
our clothes primal and game
that’s all a given
the sounds, the sights
a collected effort
worker bees in motion
drills penetrate, cables run
the crane not far off
swings carefully toward us
ever mindful… the statue of Christ
is close by
50 yards past
the bricks are tuck pointed
for mortar to sling
the lunch truck horn sings
so many pounds of flesh and bone
in one line
the power of it all
unified and instigated
rattled and poised
educated in what matters most
survival and there vote
waiting for a cool rain or wind
to ease the fire
that burns the spines
of wrinkled tired skin
and scars of jobsite history
we share significance and blood
waiting for the big man
to sing again
from the skies… he tells us
in rain…. our lay off
in sun…. infractions his scathe
put your hard hat on
Eddy’s here
he’s the OSHA inspector!
Fuck him……

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